Experiments
by TWFAN2016
Summary: While on their way to meet the pack, Scott and Stiles get kidnapped by a group of military trained men who seek out the supernatural to experiment on it. Getting a hold of a true Alpha is like the top of the icecream for them and soon Scott and Stiles understand that this people aren't playing games and this might be the hardest challenge they've faced yet. Set after season 4.
1. Taken

**SORRY! For those of you who viewed this story before, I apologize because I hadn't realized it got posted with a strange text that wasn't readable. I just deleted it and now posted the story again… Here it goes!**

 **Welcome! This is my first Fanfic ever and i'm excited about it. Until now i've just been a guest in Fanfiction reading other stories until i decided to create one of my own. I created this account and this story specifically to let my imagination run wild because i think this site is perfect as a way for my sometimes twisted mind to let out some steam. I suppose criticism is accepted because you have the right to say whatever you think of this story as much as i have the right to write it. Also, i totally accept ideas and requests for whatever you want to see happening to our two boys Scott and Stiles.**

 **Warning:** **i'm not exactly sure where this story is going, it doesn't even have too much of a plot; all i know is that i want to write a lot of whump for Scott and Stiles. I am definitely into exploring how people react psychologically to terrible things happening to them, things like torture and abuse. I'm still not sure if i want something along the lines of sexual abuse happening here but if not entirely described, then a few mentions of it can be expected. I just want to be totally honest with you guys: this story is going to be dark and if anyone finds it triggering in some way then please, don't keep reading. For now i think it's safe to rate this story T, but maybe on later chapters that rating could change.**

 **Remember, i accept requests and criticism! I hope you enjoy this story...**

 **Chapter 1:** **Taken**

 **TWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTW**

Scott and Stiles were on their way to meet the rest of the pack at the animal clinic because Deaton had called and asked them to get all together by 9:00 p.m. sharp. Apparently, he had some information to share with the group about the latest threat to their town which consisted in a group of very carnivorous creatures. They had been together hanging around Stile's house when Deaton had called and so they decided to ride together on the jeep. That is, if the thing didn't break down on the middle of the road like it tended to do most days lately.

They were engaged in a light conversation about what they though could be the information Deaton wanted to share when out of nowhere, a black SUV joined them on the road and started riding alongside them. They eyed the vehicle suspiciously but the SUV merely sped up and got in front of them. Stile sometimes didn't understand other drivers, he knew his jeep wasn't in the best conditions but he wasn't even driving that slow. He just guessed the other driver must have been a very impatient person. Stiles was wrapped in his own head when Scott suddenly yelled.

"STILES! Watch out!" he was forced to hit the brakes all the way down, fearing they would give and so placing his right hand on the hand brake just in case that would happen.

"What the fff…" Stiles heart was hammering in his chest because they almost didn't avoid the collision with the other vehicle, which had suddenly stopped right in front of them. Almost being the operative word.

The boys might have blamed the almost accident to the SUV breaking down or something but as soon as the four doors of the SUV opened up and men wearing dark clothes and holding automatic weapons got out, they started to understand that this hadn't been an accident at all.

Scott glanced at his best friend, having heard the spike his heart rate had given at the sight of the men training weapons against them, and gave him a look that was meant to assure him that everything was going to be okay. Stiles nodded in return, knowing that the ones who were gonna need help were probably the men that were now approaching the jeep in a very military way, because out of all the vehicles they could have assaulted that day, they had to choose the one with the Alpha werewolf inside. Nevertheless, being on the barrel side of a gun was never easy to digest.

"Hands where I can see them!" one of the approaching men yelled. Scott and Stiles immediately complied and raised their hands in a gesture of surrender "Step out of the car. Slowly" the boys looked at each other and then did as they were told. Scott knew that if he wanted to act, it was better if he was out of the jeep where he could move around more easily and avoid getting hit by bullets. The only thing preventing him from acting out as soon as his feet hit the ground, was the fact that Stiles was too far away from him at the other side of the jeep and he wasn't sure he could get to him in time to shield him from whatever fight was about to begin. Scott had no problem getting hit by bullets. He could heal; Stiles wouldn't.

So, they stepped out of the jeep, still with their hands raised with the palms facing front and followed the man's instruction when they were told to walk towards the group of men and the SUV.

"Who are you?" asked Stiles because he hated being in the dark as to what was going on.

"None of your business" responded the only man that had spoken ever since all this had started. Stiles sent him an incredulous look.

"None of my…? None of my business? You're holding us at gunpoint and you say this is none of our business!?" he was getting a bit worked up "Who the hell are you and what the hell do you want?" but what he got for an answer was the butt of a machine gun driven straight to his gut and dropping him to his knees, coughing and trying to catch his breath.

"Stiles!" Scott reacted and was ready to drop the men around them when their boss (or at least he thought he was their boss since he was the only one talking) trained the gun he had hit Stiles with towards him, who was still kneeling on the floor, only this time he was pointing at Stiles's head. Stiles started to look up but as soon as he saw the barrel of the machine gun only inches from his face, he looked away. His heart was hammering in his chest harder than before and he tried taking a few deep breaths to calm himself. Apparently, these people meant business.

"Let's make something clear" the man in charge started with ice in his voice and a hard-cold stare "you do as I say and no one has to get hurt… for now" he turned to one of his men, the one closest to Scott "Brig, secure the wolf" at hearing that, both Stiles and Scott gasped in surprise. _They knew?_ Stiles snapped his head towards Scott when the man named Brig took a step in his direction and Scott took a step back.

Everyone stood still for a second, waiting to see what Scott was going to do next. They knew he was a wolf, so there was no point in hiding that fact or trying to deny it. Maybe he could just wolf out and take the men down but something about the men's smug expressions held him back. They were smirking as if they were actually expecting him to do just that and so, he hesitated. Until the man hit Stiles again.

Stiles had already managed to get on his feet again, slowly as to not provoke any further attacks, but the hit had come anyway. This time, the butt of the machine gun connected with his left jaw, sending a wave of pane through his bones all the way to his brain. He stumbled but before he could fall all the way to the floor again, the man put the weapon around his neck and yanked back, trapping him in some kind of choke hold against his own body. Stiles made an involuntary sound between a protest and a choke and could only watch helplessly as Scott's features changed, staring with the color of his eyes, and he tried to lunge forward to help him. But he didn't get too far. The moment he let out the first roar, a shot was fired and Scott stumbled to the left by the force of the hit, colliding with the jeep but using it to stabilize himself and prepare to help his friend again. Before he could do anything though, a howl of pain was torn from his throat when he felt jolts of electricity coursing through his entire body. He sank to one knee, with his features back to normal, trying desperately not to pass out.

"Scott!" yelled Stiles with worry and fear written all over his face. He had seen Brigs come closer to Scott when he had stumbled into the jeep, holding an electricity baton, and jamming it into his friend's ribs. He could only guess how much energy the baton held if they had been able to drop Scott and make him change back to human with only one thrust. Although the bleeding gunshot wound on his right shoulder might have something to do with that too.

Scott couldn't hold back the grunt of pain that escaped his lips when the baton was pressed against his body again, this time on his back, deliberately close to the exit wound of the bullet and held there longer than necessary. He ended up face flat on the floor and with dark spots dancing before his eyes. He could see, between the dancing dots, his friend struggling against the man holding him and asking why they were doing this. He wanted to tell Stiles that he was okay… that he would be okay, but no sound came from his mouth. He was too busy trying to draw a proper breath.

Stiles was beginning to think that their situation was terrible by the time he had been hit in the face; but now that he saw his best friend taken down so efficiently, he knew that their situation was hopeless. Brig stepped closer to Scott and for a moment Stiles feared the man would hit him with electricity again. _Couldn't they see that he was already down?!_ But the man merely pinned him down to the ground and grabbed his hands to pull them behind his back, producing a set of handcuffs and clasping them around his wrists.

At that moment, the man holding Stiles let him go and pushed him forward and towards his friend. He called Scott's name a few times, but the only thing he got for a response was his friend's spasmodic breathing and a small warning by the widening of his eyes. But Stiles was too slow and before he could completely turn around, he was hit a third time that day, the weapon connecting with the back of his head and sending him crashing unceremoniously to the ground, completely unconscious.

Scott tried to rise again but the aftereffects of the electricity were still coursing through his body. It had been quite some time since he had been shocked with such a great amount of power and the feeling wasn't pleasant at all.

"Get them inside" ordered the man in charge, gesturing towards the SUV and walking there himself. He felt two pairs of hands grab him by the arms and shoulders and lift him off the ground, starting to drag him towards the truck of the vehicle. Another man approached Stiles and clasping his hands behind his back with another pair of handcuffs, lifted him up and threw him on top of Scott. The SUV was turned on and he soon felt it moving forward, resuming its way, and leaving the jeep behind as if nothing had ever happened.

Scott strained his hearing and released a sigh when he heard Stiles's heart beating steadily on his chest, although he was still out cold and he could smell a small amount of blood on the back of his friend's head. When he woke up, he would have the mother of all headaches and he worried that he would probably have a concussion.

He closed his eyes and tried to calm down. He took a few deep breaths to clear his mind and slow down his own racing heart. They had gotten out of worst situations than this and so they would do it again. They had been on their way to meet the pack, so when they didn't show up, they would know something was up and when they found the jeep on the streets, then a search party would begin. For now, he just needed to concentrate on understanding what this people wanted, how did they know he was a werewolf and where they were going. Were they hunters? It would make sense since they seemed very well trained but, if they were after werewolves, why take Stiles too? Maybe they thought he was a werewolf too; but the man had specifically said ' _secure the werewolf'_ , as in _one_ werewolf. So, what did they want with Stiles?

Scott knew, no matter what, he would do anything to protect his friend. As long as he was around, he couldn't let anything happen to Stiles.

 **TWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTW**

 **That was the first chapter. I would like to know what you thought of it. Remember that i accept requests so if there's anything you would like to see happening to the boys just let me know on a review or maybe a private message if you want.**

 **I'm gonna start working on chapter two but i make no promises as to when i'll post it. I'll try to do it as soon as i can!**


	2. On the move

**Welcome back for chapter 2! Thanks to all who have favorited or are now following me and this story… you made my day! I hope you like this chapter… On a personal note, I really do!**

 **Chapter 2:** **On the move**

Scott could feel the gunshot wound on his right shoulder already beginning to heal and little by little the dull pain that had settled over him due to the electricity had been fading until just a small body spasm every three or four minutes. He hoped that by the time they got wherever they were going that he would feel completely back to normal and then be able to try to escape their captors.

He tried to rise Stiles by shifting his position from underneath him, since the men had dropped his friend right on top of him inside the cramped space of the trunk, but nothing seemed to work. He was beginning to worry that the man had hit Stiles way too hard, but after a while he was reworded with a slurred moan.

"Stiles" he whispered "Stiles, you all right?"

"Mmmm" Stiles scrunched up his eyes and pressed his forehead against the soft surface underneath him "Jeez!" he exclaimed because the pain pulsating behind his eyes was unlike any hangover he had ever experienced before. He kept pressing his head downwards, trying to compensate the pressure behind his eyes with the pressure on his forehead and that way maybe alleviate some of his pain when he felt the warm surface underneath him give a little shake and then he heard Scott's strained voice somewhere close to his right ear.

"Stiles... Stop..." although his shoulder wound had begun to heal already, having someone pressing it down with his forehead was definitely not helpful. Stiles stilled his movements and ever so slowly opened his eyes. The first thing he noticed was that the surface he was laying on was breathing and that the spot he had been rubbing his forehead against was all covered in blood, which he supposed must have left a huge blood stain on his face. Second, he realized how hard it was to breathe when lying face down on top of someone and, last but not least, he noticed that his arms were tied behind his back when he tried to used them for leverage in changing is current position. For a moment, he started to panic. He had never liked tight spaces and, that, combined with the almost suffocating heat inside the enclosed space, the brain crushing pain behind his eyelids and not being able to move his arms was sending him directly into the clasps of a panic attack. His breathing was becoming increasingly rapid and he couldn't stop his mind from remembering another time when he had woken up disoriented and in pain in a place where he definitely hadn't decided to go to sleep. Of course, having witnessed countless of panic attacks from his friend, Scott immediately recognized it and tried to do what he always did when dealing with them.

"Stiles, listen to me" ha was using a calm tone of voice to try and transmit some sense of control over to him "you're okay. Hey, you're not alone. I'm here, all right?" Stiles lifted his head carefully to look at his friend.

"Sco...Scott?" he was still wheezing "what's going on?" Scott frowned.

"You don't remember?" maybe that last hit to his head had been as hard as he had feared "what's the last thing you remember?" he asked. Stiles dropped his head to rest on Scott's chest again (mindful of the gunshot injury) because right now it was just too heavy to keep up and tried to remember. _Wait, gunshot injury?_

"You were shot" he started to say as the memories came crushing back "and electrocuted! Are you all right?" he asked alarmed, beginning to roll to the side trying to take his weight off his friend's body who had to have been struggling to breath enough without his completely useless weight on top of him.

"I'm okay. Don't worry" he responded, also noticing the almost frantic movements his friend was making to try and get off of him "Stop, I'm fine. The bullet was ordinary and the aftershocks are over. _Stiles!"_ he said a little bit more urgently "Stop. I'm fine. And there's not enough room anyway" Stiles let out a sigh and dropped his efforts to move. Scott was right, there was not enough room for the both of them and all the yunk around them. Eventually he calmed down enough to draw a proper breath and asked.

"How long was I out?"

"At least fifteen minutes"

"Any idea where we're going?"

"No" Scott replied.

"Who this people are?"

"Nope" he sighed.

"And what could they want?" Scott shook his head and Stiles grumbled "Great. You think this could be another group of assassins? Like maybe they didn't get the memo of the dead pool business being over?" he asked again.

"They would've killed us already, not taken us hostage"

"Yeah but hostages for what?"

"I don't know" both boys knew that neither of them knew more than the other, but somehow talking about it made it easier to handle for Stiles and Scott knew that his friend used talking as a mechanism for coping with situations like this.

"Maybe they're hunters!" Stiles exclaimed as if he actually wanted that possibility to be true "we've dealt with hunters before so this should be a piece of cake!" he also reflected on the fact that their lives had become so screwed over the past couple of years that actually hoping to run into werewolf hunters instead of something else, something worst, was pretty much good news by now.

"Naah. I actually thought of that, but I don't think they're hunters. I don't know, there's something off about them"

"Oookay, can you hear something? Anything?" Stiles asked hopefully thinking maybe they could at least find out where they were going by listening into their conversations.

"They're not talking. All I hear is music and the engine" suddenly the car took a hard right on a corner and they were sent crashing into one side of the vehicle before reassuming their previous position.

"Argh!" Stiles pouted, closing his eyes again when a new wave of pain threatened to melt his brain "I feel like puking now" Scott was alarmed by this.

"Dude! Not on top of me, please" Stiles tilted his head to the side, resting his right ear on Scott's chest and began to breathe through the nausea. After a while, he frowned.

"How can you be so calm?" he asked, because in this position he could listen to his friend's heartbeat and it was totally normal. Scott was a bit surprised by the question but then he understood what Stiles meant. He wasn't going to deny that the situation scared him a bit, but he had to remain in control, calm and collected for his friend's sake. He could still hear Stiles's heart beating a bit faster than usual and he also knew that as brave as he was hanging around supernatural creatures and charging into any kind of bizarre situations armed with only a baseball bat, there were certain things that got to him, like being kidnapped, or unable to move or trapped in a small place, or all of the above combined, like right now. After a few seconds of considering his answer, he replied.

"Because we'll get out of this as we get out of everything: with the help of the pack. They'll know we're missing and as soon as they find the jeep, they'll know something happened to us"  
Stiles's sudden nausea had receded enough for him to open up his eyes again and stare at the back of the trunk. Scott was right: they were going to get out of this but, would they be the same afterwards?

Lately it seemed that every time they got out of a difficult situation or solved a mess (a supernatural one of course) they ended up just a little bit more beaten than they were before. Ever since that business with the Nemeton, being surrogate sacrifices, the darkness creeping around their hearts, the nogitsune taking residence in his body, the dead pool, all the pain and suffering... All the deaths. Lately it just seemed that every time they went up against a new threat, they lost a little bit of their souls in the process, a little bit of themselves.  
So why would this time be any different? And when would their bodies and their minds just have enough?

As if on cue with his pessimistic thoughts, the SUV started to slow down until it came to a complete stop.

"They're coming" Scott warned maybe a minute before the trunk was popped open and they both had to squint against the harsh glow of the flashlights pointing directly at their eyes. Rough hands grabbed the back of Stiles's shirt and pulled him out of the car. He struggled a little trying to get his feet underneath him but finally he managed. He was guided forward by a hand squeezing his arm and he got a final glance back at the vehicle to see Scott getting out on his own and beginning to walk too, prompted by the movement of a gun nearby.  
Stiles looked ahead again when he tripped over his own feet and the hand pulling his bicep squeezed harder. The minimal amount of assurance he had managed to get from Scott during the last part of the ride was beginning to fade away when he glanced at the structure that rose in front of them.

It was the size of an industrial factory. In fact, he almost recognized it as one of the few broken down factories on the oldest part of town. This part of Beacon Hills was almost completely abandoned. There were just a few other rundown buildings closer to the main road but, other than that, this factory was well within the forest and almost obscured by the amount of foliage surrounding it.

There didn't seem to be a lot of security apart from a couple of armed men on the front door and he didn't know if he should feel concerned or relieved by that fact. Did that mean this people were sloppy with security or that they were confident enough that they didn't need it? Stiles just knew he really wasn't interested in finding out and that they couldn't get inside that facility at any cost.

By now Scott and the rest of the men guarding them had caught up to them and so they were walking almost side by side now, but when Stiles glanced over to his friend trying to convey with his eyes that they needed to do something now, he was puzzled by Scott's facial expression. His brow was furrowed in concentration and, maybe, frustration? His lips were set in a tight line and his arms were tense. He had been trying to break the cuffs around his wrists but, no matter how much strength he put into the task, the damn thing just wouldn't break. Stiles didn't need to be a werewolf to know that his best friend's heartrate was accelerating and he couldn't blame him. Why wasn't he able to break the cuffs? As far as Stiles could see, the cuffs were normal. At least, they felt normal around his hands. Were Scott's somehow different? Or was something wrong with his powers? Either way, whatever window of opportunity they may have had was lost the moment they stepped inside the factory and the doors were slammed behind them.

The silence of the procession was unnerving and Stiles was dying to ask where they were and why they had been taken there, but the memory of the weapon hitting him in the gut was enough to make him remain silent... For now.

Scott eventually gave up on trying to break the cuffs and instead concentrated the rest of his senses on his surroundings. The factory was empty, dirty, and clearly abandoned but there was a smell that reached his nose and was becoming stronger the closer they got to a door on the farthest wall across from them. He had been around one long enough to recognize that smell anywhere; it smelled like hospital.

"Where are you taking us?" he asked. He had been half expecting a violent answer from the man in charge or any of the others, really; instead, he got a snicker and a vague reply.

"You'll see" said Brig, the man who hadn't left him out of his sight, and the sight of his electric baton, even for a second.

The man in charge produced a card from one of his pockets and inserted it into an electronic lock by the side of the door. There was a slow beeping sound, a red light turning green and the door popped open. Stiles was surprised that such a sophisticated opening mechanism could be found on an old abandoned factory like that one, but maybe the place wasn't as abandoned as they thought it was, and the moment they were pushed through the door, it felt like they had stepped into another dimension.

 **TWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTW**

 **What did you think? Also I would like to let you know that there will be NO slash in this fic because that's not what I do. I'm a bromance fan and I will explore that a 100%, but no slash will ever happen between Scott and Stiles! Just thought I should let you know**

 **Remember: if there's anything specific you would like to read here, I accept requests that I'll try to fit into the storyline!**


	3. First Test

**First of all, I want to wish everybody a Happy New Year! I hope that this new year brings you joy, success and happiness. Also, I would like to thank all of you who are now following this story or had added it to your favorites list, I deeply appreciate it and I'm happy that you're liking this story.**

 **I wanted to start the year with a new chapter so here's chapter three! I hope you like it!**

 **Chapter 3:** **First test**

White and pristine walls greeted them. There was a hallway of maybe just ten feet long that led to a set of stairs going down at the end of it. There were lightbulbs on the roof that shone a bright white light and were surrounded by metal bars to prevent anyone from reaching them.  
The walls and the floor were made of the same material and they were so clean you could almost watch your own reflection on every surface. This hallway was a definite contrast with the dirty place they were now leaving behind and if Scott and Stiles thought that such a change in scenario couldn't bring anything good for them, they had no idea what was in store for them.

Upon reaching what must have been the basement of the old factory, the men prompted them to walk towards what looked like an MRI machine in the middle of the hallway that continued to stretch forward a few meters until it divided into three different doors, one to the right, one to the left and one right up front. On the side of the MRI looking machine, there was a desk and a man wearing equally white clothes as the rest of this strange facility. There was a computer and a stack of papers, nothing else.  
The man on the desk looked up at their arrival.

"Ah Mr. Rivers. I see you've brought your catch of the day. I trust there was no issue obtaining it?" his accent was foreign. Scott didn't like him one bit; nor the way he was dressed, or the way he looked, or the way he talked about them like they were objects and as if they weren't even standing right there.

"Not at all. Getting a hold of this one" the man in charge, Rivers, said pointing to Scott "was as easy as they had promised" Scott really tried not to feel offended for that comment. He really tried but, the truth was, he still couldn't believe how easily they had subdued him. It's not that he believed himself to be invincible, but it should have been a little bit harder than _that_ to take him.

"Good" was all the response he got over the matter from the lab rat who was now standing from his position on the chair behind the desk. He came closer to the boys and regarded them with incredibly cold eyes before asking "who's gonna go first?" Scott and Stiles looked at each other. Whatever they were talking about, Scott was willing to go first instead of his friend, but Rivers beat him to it.

"Take this one first" and he pushed Stiles forward.

"Hey!" both boys protested "First for what? What are you doing man?" asked Stiles when one of the other men grabbed him by the arm again and kept approaching the machine. Scott was getting restless but the moment Stiles had been pushed forward, every weapon on the room had been pointed at him and any attack plan he could've been thinking about died before it could even begin. The cuffs around his wrists where unlocked and Stiles was made to stand in the space between the desk and the machine.

"Take off your clothes" Rivers ordered. He was taken aback by that.

"What!?" Stiles asked.

"Come on kid we don't have all day"

"But... I'm not gonna take my clothes off! Are you crazy?"

"Either you take them off or I'm gonna do it for you and it won't be a pleasant experience... For you anyway" Rivers retorted back with a small smile on his face. Stiles looked at Scott seeking for some kind of clue as to what he should do. He really, really, like really didn't want to strip in front of all these people but if he didn't do as he was told, what would they do to him and Scott? Rivers noticed the look passed between the boys and he rolled his eyes; this was so typical: hurt one element from a pair to get what you wanted from the other. It was a formula that worked every time and he wasn't one to question the methods that worked. Without any warning, he pointed his gun down and shot.

Both Stiles and the lab rat jumped from the deafening noise and the next thing Stiles heard was a grunted yell of pain from his best friend.

"Scott!" he tried to advance in his direction but was stopped by Rivers himself who fisted the front of his shirt and talked only inches from his face.

"If you don't want the other leg to suffer the same fate, I suggest you get on with it... Fast" he added. Stiles couldn't keep his eyes away from Scott and the most recent wound on his left leg. The shot had been a through and through but since his hands had been tied behind his back, Scott had stumbled with the force of the hit and the lack of equilibrium to get caught by Brig who couldn't have been happier at the moment. He definitely wasn't trying to hide that he liked to see Scott hurt; completely unlike Stiles who was on the verge of another panic attack because... _Come on!_ How were they going to get out of this one if they had Scott on point blanc range at all times?

Scott made an effort to hide how painful the bullet wound to his leg really was because it was already starting to heal and he didn't want Stiles to feel more pressure about it that he already must have been feeling. Scott was starting to struggle with himself because everything was happening so fast and these men were so unpredictable in their acts that he was feeling unsure of himself and his ability to get him and Stiles away from them. They were so cold looking and efficient, they had no problem shooting him without a warning and using him as leverage to make Stiles do what they wanted.

Scott had been feeling a bit dizzy since they started walking down the white stairs but he wasn't sure if it was because of his healing injuries or because of the smell that had hit him as soon as the door had been opened: fear. Lots and lots of fear. It unnerved him and it made his feelings attune with that particular one. The more time he spent there, the more consumed his emotions became by the mere strength of the fear present in the air. Fear from who? Fear of what? He didn't know... All he knew for sure is that he wanted to get out of that place and he couldn't. He felt useless, paralyzed but he couldn't afford to show this emotions right now.

Here they were, some creepy violent men were asking Stiles to take his clothes off and hurting him to get his friend to do their bidding, he just couldn't leave his friend to handle the situation alone. Stiles had looked at him for guidance, he knew; he had known Stiles long enough to read him like a book and he had silently asked for permission to do what he was told or to fight the request. Right now, all Scott could think about was giving Stiles the only answer that for the time being would save both of them any more violent retaliations.

"Stiles" he said with a low and almost unsure tone of voice "I…I'm okay" he lied. He wasn't okay and it had absolutely nothing to do with the almost healed wound on his leg "do what they say" he also nodded while finishing and gave a pointed look to him trying to convey his message _'for now. Do what they say, for now'_. Stiles fought against the hand clasping his shirt until he was let go.

"All right!" he exclaimed "All right..."

He grabbed the hem of his t-shirt and pulled it over his head. Instantly, goosebumps appeared all over his torso and he shivered. He hadn't realized how cold this place was; exactly like a hospital. He used his own feet to take off his sneakers without having to bend down and then removed his socks right after. He hesitated for a moment before unclasping his belt and sliding his jeans all the way to the floor and stepping aside to leave them there. He was beginning to feel self-conscious because he was left standing wearing only his blue striped boxers in front of five adult men and he just hoped the blush creeping into his face wasn't as visible as he felt it.

"Done. Happy now?" he asked, irritated, and then he fully scowled when he was told he needed to take off everything, every single piece of clothing. He was threatened again by Rivers's obnoxious bittersweet voice telling him Scott could use another shot to equal the previous one on his right leg and he had no other choice than to comply. So, hating the man in charge more and more with every nanosecond that passed by, he quickly pulled his boxers down to remain wearing absolutely nothing in front of everybody. He put his hands down to try and cover himself while looking intently at the floor instead of at anyone else. Scott hurt for his friend and the terribly fast and irregular beat of his heart. Things were quickly escalating from bad to worse and he just didn't know what to do. At that moment, the lab rat went to the machine and extracted some kind of stretcher from the center of the machine.

"Lay down, please" he asked. Stiles rolled his eyes.

"Oh, so now you say _please_ " he murmured but rapidly got into the sliding stretcher when he saw Rivers approaching him with malice in his eyes. Lab rat just ignored him. When he was completely lying down, the man put a thin piece of hospital fabric on his middle section that barely covered him enough and Stiles silently asked himself what the point was if he had already been humiliated enough by letting everyone see him naked.

"We're gonna take some images from the inside of your body and you need to be as still as possible" lab rat said.

"I know how this works" Stiles answered bitterly, remembering all too well the days when he had been fighting with all his might against the nogitsune and he had been subjected to an MRI imaging procedure where he had lost his grip over himself and let the demon take control for the first time. He tried to calm himself thinking that this had nothing to do with that and that no super creepy, evil and Japanese demon would take up residence in his body again because he needed to focus on the more imminent threat right now: big guys with big guns ordering them around and hurting Scott in the process.

"This shouldn't take long" lab rat said again as if he was worried for a patient who might get bored over an MRI "just a couple of minutes" _'a couple of minutes?_ ' Stiles thought, ' _yeah right! More like an hour!_ ' But, to his surprise, he didn't spend more than ten minutes inside the tube, and he also didn't hear any hammering noise either. When the test was done, the sliding stretcher went out through the other side of the machine and now the machine was left standing between him and the rest of the party. Lab rat handed him a new set of dark blue clothes that consisted on a pair of boxers, flannel pants and a t-shirt. He didn't waste a second before putting the clothes on and maybe for the first time in his life he had never appreciated more having even the simplest of clothes covering his body. When he was done, he turned to the other side of the machine where Brig was shoving Scott face first against the wall and unclasping his cuffs.

"Your turn... Dog" he spat out and then pushed Scott forward. This guy definitely didn't like Scott.

By now Scott new better than to protest and having seen what would happen he just stripped quickly and methodically and lay himself flat on the stretcher.

While he was being tested, the four men that had abducted them walked over to the other side of the machine and Stiles was forced against the wall to watch his friend get dressed with the exact same dark blue clothes he had been provided with. Not a second after Scott was done, they were made to move again and keep walking towards the doors at the end of the hallway. Apparently, their new destination awaited them beyond the door to their left and they all stepped through it without a single comment on what had just taken place in the hallway.  
At least now, they didn't have their hands cuffed behind their backs, and the boys decided to think about that detail as progress. They couldn't afford to lose all hope now before even getting to the end of their journey through this place.

 **TWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTW**

 **Done! That was the first test. Nothing too serious, right? Don't worry, the darkest parts of the story are yet to come and there will be plenty of hurting for both out boys!**

 **Remember: leave a comment or a request! Thank you!**


	4. Flight Risk

**Thank you so much for all your incredible reviews! They make my day and make me want to write more!**

 **I'm pretty proud of some parts of this new chapter and I hope you guys enjoy the action!**

 **Chapter 4:** **Flight Risk**

The one thing in common that this new space had with the hallway they had just left behind was the immaculate white walls, floor, and ceiling. If they had to compare this new place with something, they would have described it as a school cafeteria because there were long tables on the left side, directly next to the wall and on that same corner, the one directly opposite to the door they had just used, there was a really small counter and a square hole on the wall that connected this room with another one behind it. This was definitely a place for eating but, was it for the guards and the people who worked here or was it for prisoners? And, if so, then how many prisoners did these people have?

They were supposed to go through yet another door from across the room and with every step, the scent of fear Scott had been feeling for a while now grew even stronger and now he could say for sure that there were others behind that door. Glancing towards the tables again and inhaling another breath full of terror from the people beyond the door made the situation seem like an incarceration even more than before and Scott couldn't take it anymore. They needed to go… _now_.

The party of six consisted on the four men from the SUV and the two boys; now Scott knew what the men were capable of and what type of weapons they had, his hands were no longer restrained and the way out was very simple: down the hall, over the MRI machine, up the stairs and out of there. It was time to put an end to this madness so, without a warning, he longed forward to pushed Stiles out of the way and he sent him to the floor. By the time he turned around to face the men who had already reached for their weapons, he had completely wolfed out and let out a roar that matched the levels of anger and fear in the air, and inside of him.

He didn't waste any time and pushed the gun out of Rivers's hand before he could finish aiming it at him and went on kicking Brig's legs from under him and making him crash to the floor. Man number three fired his gun but Scott was quicker and dodged the projectile, fearing for Stiles but relieved to notice that his friend had enough sense to remain crouched on the floor. Man number four had a bit more luck when a spray of bullets was fired from his machine gun and one of them managed to graze Scott's side, but he didn't let the mild burning sensation distract him.

Brig had recovered from his fall and the scowl he wore on his face could have frightened even the strongest of sumo wrestlers and Stiles saw him reach for the electricity baton and move against Scott. He tried to warn him but wasn't sure if by yelling at him, Stiles would distract Scott and make him vulnerable for the attack or actually warn him in time to prevent it. Eventually he decided that Scott's senses would act like a warning better than anything he could say and instead concentrated and how he could help his friend some other way. Scott was engaged in a hand in hand combat with man number three after having taken man number four's machine gun and sending it flying to the other side of the room. Brig had decided to step in wielding his electricity baton and although Scott had turned around in time to avoid a full on thrust against his back, he had risen his arm out of instinct to stop the thing and waves of electricity were shocked into him non-the less. He grunted but didn't back down and when he sunk to one knee, he used his free hand to punch Brig in the gut. The guy doubled over and Scott used the momentum to grab him by the uniform he was wearing and flung him against the wall. He cradled his arm begging the healing process of his body to start soon because even though the contact with the electricity had been only through his arm, the intensity of it hadn't been any less painful and he was left moving a bit slower than before, which gave the other men opportunity to get through his defenses.

Stiles could see that Scott wouldn't be able to resist much longer after the shock he received from Brig, who was already shaking his head on the floor to clear it and keep up with the fight. Stiles was desperate to try and help his friend but, what could he do? He was just human, and a very pale looking thin human who didn't know how to fight and the only weapon he ever relied on was a baseball bat and there were no baseball bats here! … ' _But there was a gun_ ' the less terrified part of his brain supplied for him. He remembered seeing the machine gun flying to the other side of the room to come to a halt and rest near the tables lining the left wall. One didn't need a lot of training to pull a trigger and if he could distract the men long enough while firing at them, then Scott could recover and finish the fight.

With that thought in mind, Stiles carefully picked himself up from the floor and started running in the direction of the tables hoping against hope that nobody would notice his intentions while everyone was concentrated on the werewolf roaring and kicking asses on the other side. Unfortunately, though, Rivers noticed. The truth was he hadn't engaged himself too much in the fight against Scott, either because he was scared of going against a werewolf or because he knew he wouldn't be needed and his men could handle themselves; and Rivers didn't strike him as a man of fear. So that meant he had been available to notice Stiles's intentions and he run after him until he tackled him and they both ended up lying on the floor, Rivers pressing his weight against Stiles and Stiles squirming under his weight to try and free himself.

Rivers twisted Stiles's arm behind his back and he had to stifle a moan when the pain reached his shoulder. River's hips were pressing into his back, effectively pinning him against the floor while he intertwined his legs with each of Stiles's to stop him from kicking out. He felt the other man's arm press against his neck from behind and his face was plastered to the floor painfully on an angle from where he could still see the other fight taking place in the room. By now, the only thing Stiles was able to move was his right arm but, no matter how much strength he put into it, he wasn't able to get any sort of leverage to throw Rivers off. These men were professionals and this kind of tackling technique felt like an army thing to do. Either way, Stiles's anger and sheer force of will kept him squirming underneath Rivers and doing everything he could to get free.

"Nice try" the man spat into his ear "but this is gonna be over soon"

The way he said it made Stiles look up and focus on the other fight again. Rivers had spoken with such confidence that Stiles was left with the feeling that there was never a real chance to escape from the beginning. He looked at Scott and he could see that his wolf features were still in display, which meant his friend wasn't faring so bad after all, but that soon changed when the three men he had been fighting against lined up around him and they all produced an electricity baton from one of the holsters on their uniform. Brig was the first to wield it in a way that reminded Stiles of someone wielding a magic wand and, incredibly, a long thick black wire elongated from the tip of the stick and it caught Scott's wrist in a firm hold. Brig pulled back and Scott stumbled forward and roared when the electricity hit him again.

Man number three and man number four did the exact same thing, only this time one of the wires got attached to Scott's legs and when the wire was pulled back, Scott lost his footing and he crashed to the floor, now openly complaining with the new source of pain radiating from his legs. The last wire had been aimed at his other wrist, which had been yanked to one side so now he was left sprawled on the floor with three different sources of electricity hitting his body simultaneously.

The pain was making him lose the grip he had on his power and his features were starting to get back to human but something weird was going on. Yes, he was changing back to human but it was like his senses had short circuited and his wolf side was colliding with his human side and neither of them was able to get a firm hold over his body. He could feel his claws start withdrawing and then go back out instantly, his teeth were normal for one second and then the next he could feel his fangs coming out only to stop midway and go back in. His head felt like it would explode any moment now and what he considered a pathetic whimper escaped his lips when he felt such a battle inside him between all of his senses. He had never experienced something like this before, no matter how strong the current of electricity and he wanted with all his might to curl in on himself but the men pulling strongly on the wires wouldn't let him.

Stiles saw the pain reflected on Scott's face and he heard the sound of despair leaving his best friend's mouth. Something weird was happening to him. Stiles could see his eyes changing from dark brown to bright red like it was an intermittent flashlight and his jaw was set tight one second to then be let open to allow his fangs to grow on the next. Scott had fisted his hands and there was blood pooling underneath them as he guessed his claws must have been digging into his palm. He was constantly flexing his knees trying to pull them towards his chest but every time he tried, they were yanked back by man number four, preventing Scott to seek any kind of comfort that fetal position could provide. His breathing was irregular and harsh, almost to the point when he spent an entire minute without drawing a breath and then doing so in a desperate manner.

It was agony, and it wasn't exactly because of the electricity. He had managed electricity before, like when they had been held by the Calaveras or when Barlow had shocked him with the industrial wire. The agony came from the constant shifting; the never getting entirely changed to human but never transforming completely into a werewolf. He was pretty sure he was losing his mind and he didn't know how much more he could take.

"STOP!" Stiles screamed from across the room and still held fast against the floor by Rivers "You're gonna kill him! Stop!" he didn't understand what was happening to his friend but he could say he was obviously in pain and he needed to do something even if that something meant begging "Please just stop! He's already down, please! We won't fight again just please don't kill him!" Rivers waited another agonizing minute to answer.

"Oh trust me… we want to keep him alive for as long as we can" he said, and then motioned towards his men, who immediately pressed a button on the sticks they were holding. Scott twitched as if he had received a stronger charge of electricity and then the shocks stopped entering his body and the wires were withdrawn into the sticks again. Being able to close in on himself, Scott lay on his side, knees pushed all the way to his chest and his arms tight around himself as he had been freezing and trying to hold into what was left of his body warm temperature. He eyes were screwed shut but Stiles was able to catch the brown color before he closed them completely. He had eventually remained human.

Rivers loosened his hold on Stiles and for a moment, he thought he was gonna let him go to rush to his friend's aid but what happened was merely a change in position. He got painfully yanked by the arm trapped behind his back and so now he lay with his back against the floor and facing up. Rivers was still on top of him and he was pressing his wrists down by either side of his head while still using the rest of his body to keep him pinned to the floor. Stiles had started to struggle at the beginning because this position was in no way better than before and he was feeling uncomfortable, to say the least, with Rivers so close and on top of him, but decided to just hold still when the other man's fingers dug deeply into his wrists.

"Now, listen to me very carefully" Rivers started to say with poison in his voice "there is nothing you can do to escape us; you belong to this place now and if you think we haven't been playing nice so far, just wait and see what's in store for you. Don't think that because you're kids we're not gonna do whatever's necessary to keep you in line…" he paused for a moment and, maybe it was Stiles's overreactive imagination, but he was sure Rivers pressed his hips down into his mid-section just a fraction more while sending him a look of pure glee and hate at the same time "so don't test us. In fact, we're gonna be the one's testing you and if you don't want to suffer more than it's necessary then I suggest you forget any scape hopes you still may have and concentrate on this: this is your life now…" another pause, and another suggestive and totally unwanted pressure against his lower abdomen "you belong to us now" he finished and then got up from the floor, pulling Stiles with him and turning him around to bind his wrist behind his back again.

He didn't know when he had started shaking, but Stiles was now conscious of the small tremors running through his body. What had just happened with Scott and the open and also the underlying threat of Rivers's words and actions had shaken his core and he was sure everyone could hear how hard his heart was hammering against his chest. You'd have to be deaf not to hear it.

Brig prompted Scott to get up from the floor without any attempt at helping him, maybe because he wanted to laugh at Scott's efforts to do it alone. He felt weak and lightheaded and he was also shaking. He finally opened his hands to find them claws-free but the first time he put them on the floor to help himself rise, he slipped on the blood that still smeared his cut palms and that got a sneaker from the men surrounding him. It was bad enough that this people wanted to hurt them, but they also didn't mind humiliating them.

Eventually he was able to get his feet under him and immediately Brig pushed him against the wall roughly to bind his hands behind his back again. When they were all finished, they resumed their previous goal and headed toward the other door at the far end of the room.

Scott and Stiles looked at each other and what they saw in the other one's eyes scared them both. Stiles's eyes were wide with fear and uncertainty; he was scared for what they had just done to Scott and everything Rivers had said. He was wondering what it meant that they would be the ones getting tested and he definitely did not like that about belonging to this place now. Scott's eyes were half shut and behind them Stiles could see pain and regret. He was sure Scott was blaming himself for not being stronger to overpower these people and he knew his friend was feeling every bit of fear just a he was.

What lay beyond the next door they were about to cross? Both boys now definitely understood that this people weren't playing games and, just as Rivers had said, they weren't hesitating in hurting a couple of kids to get what they wanted. They didn't want to admit it, but the possibilities of escaping this place had been reduced almost to none, and the more doors and rooms they left behind, the farther away those possibilities went.

Taking in a deep breath and already having learned to expect the worst, they stepped through the door.

 **TWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTW**

 **Well! I hope this chapter was good enough for those of you who've been wanting to read some Scott whump here. I wasn't sure where this chapter was going to go but I think it turned out pretty good.**

 **Did you like the whumping? Would you like for me to up the staked a bit more?**

 **Don't worry, there will be plenty of whump to come for Scott and Stiles since that was the sole purpose of this fanfic anyway!**

 **Any specific whumping request? I'm taking into consideration the ones I've already gotten.**

 **I'm gonna keep writing now… my wish is to finish another chapter by the end of the day… with any luck and maybe a few motivating reviews, I could post again today!**

 **Thanks!**


	5. Alone

**I'm sorry for not posting this last night like I wanted but I just couldn't get the chapter right and then it was too late and I decided to leave it for today to figure it out… I'm glad I did because now I can give you a longer chapter. I hope you like it!**

 **Thanks to all of you who reviewed and that are now following this story!**

 **Chapter 5:** **Alone**

They stepped into the next room and stared ahead of them. ' _Surprise!_ ' they thought; another hallway and more doors. These people could seriously use some advice on interior decoration because every door was the same and spaced evenly between one another, and the walls were, again, shiny, and white.

This time though, there were at least a dozen doors lining each wall and at the end of the hall, a desk and another lab rat sitting behind. This place was starting to look like a maze and, as ever, it wasn't a thought either of the boys regarded as comforting.

When they walked by the doors, they couldn't see inside the rooms even when the doors had a small window high at the center, but the glass was so obscured that they only caught their own reflection on it. Scott knew though, that there were people on the other side of the doors; not all of them, but enough to make his stomach uneasy again. The smell of fear he had felt since the beginning was originating from these rooms, he was certain of it now, and he couldn't do anything else but breathe through his mouth to try and not succumb to the terror surrounding him.

They reached the desk and, as before, Stiles was sent forward to be evaluated first. This time, the evaluation consisted on the lab rat filling out a few forms with his name and then pricking one of his fingers to leave his blooded print at the end of one of them. He was then pushed aside to give Scott some room to do the same and then the test was done.

"We need a double one for these two" ordered Rivers and the other man gave him an electronic key to one of the doors. They doubled back a few paces and then stood in front of a door. Rivers swiped the card and the room unlocked, welcoming them to what would be their living arrangements for the time being.

The room consisted on two individual mattresses lying on the floor, covered in dark blue sheets and arranged to be on either side of the room, which wasn't that big to begin with. After being pushed inside, they saw a toilet and a sink behind the door and then, nothing else. That was it.

Brig stepped closer to unclasp Scott's hands while Rivers did the same with Stiles.

"I suggest you rest while you can. Tomorrow morning you'll be briefed and you'll understand why you're here" said Rivers before closing and locking the door behind him and before giving any of them time to reply back. Scott didn't waste any second and he chose the mattress on the right to sit and rest his back against the wall. He was still breathing through his mouth and his eyes were closed. He felt Stiles slid down right next to him.

"Are you okay?" Stiles asked. His voice was low and his words, few. He wasn't feeling exactly talkative right now but he needed to know if his friend was alright and what were they going to do now. Scott opened his eyes but didn't respond right away. He didn't know how to. He knew he was definitely not okay, but he wasn't actually hurt either. Every wound on his body had already completely healed and yet, he felt sicker than he's ever been. Stiles was taken aback by the redness in Scott's eyes because he looked like he was about to cry. ' _God! How much scary can this get?_ ' he thought but didn't press his friend to talk.

"I'm not hurt" he finally responded in a tight voice as if he was afraid he would break down and lose the weak hold he still had over his emotions. Why was he feeling like this?!

"You don't look so good Scott" Stiles pointed out "What happened out there?"

"I don't… I'm not… I'm not sure, I…" he looked down at his lap. He might as well just talk about it "something happened when they shocked me with those wires. I couldn't… I couldn't go back to human but I couldn't totally transform either and the shift kept going back and forth and it was painful but… but the worst thing was…" he had to stop to take a shaky breath "for a moment, I wasn't either human or werewolf. I don't know how to explain it Stiles, I was… I was nothing it was like existing but being nothing and I don't know what's going on with me since we got here but I can't stop shaking and I couldn't break the cuffs and I keep smelling fear so much fear and there's anger but it's mostly fear and I think it's getting to me and it's overriding my senses just this fear and there's people behind the other doors and the fear is coming from them and-"

"Stop! Jeez Scott, breathe!" Stiles had to stop his friend from talking because once he had gotten a hold of his words, he hadn't breathed a single time in between and he had begun to get agitated. Stiles would catalogue it as the beginning of a panic attack and it was more than unsettling to watch his friend like that. It reminded Stiles of when Scott had been about to have an asthma attack and they didn't have the means to deal with something like that right now. A part of Stiles's brain reminded him that Scott wasn't supposed to have any more asthma after being a werewolf, but if Scott was right and this place was doing strange things to him, then he had to be on alert "come on buddy, breathe and calm down. That's it" he had put a hand on Scott's shoulder and squeezed for comfort. After a while of complete silence, Scott spoke up again.

"Stiles, I don't know if I can protect you right now. These men are really well trained and they have that wire thing so I think we should do what they say for now so they don't hurt you. Maybe bide our time and also hope for the pack to find us. Just… let's do what they say" Scott had closed his eyes and rested the back of his head against the wall. He was tired and his words had slurred down due to exhaustion so, by the time he finished talking, it almost seemed like he had fallen asleep.

Stiles didn't reply and rested the back of his head against the wall too but didn't close his eyes. He sat there staring at the opposite white wall and thought about what Scott had just said. He agreed that these people meant business and that they knew very well how to deal with werewolves but it somehow felt like they had pushed through Scott's will too easily. Of course, he had no idea and he couldn't even imagine what that fear smell he had been talking about was doing to him and the thing about existing and being nothing, that sounded like a traumatizing experience already; it was just so hard to picture his friend emotionally beaten down. He could take on a pack of Alphas, a dark druid, a bunch of psychos trying to kill him for money. Hell! He had taken on him when was a nogitsune and to have him suddenly taken down by four apparently human men was something that scared Stiles more than he cared to admit.

' _Do what they say'_ he heard Scott's voice in his head again. It's just that, ' _what they say'_ scared him. His mind went back to the moment Rivers had been on top of him, pinning him down to the floor with his own body and saying all those things about tests and belonging to them and suffering, all the while pressing down on him on such a suggestive and invasive way that frightened him on a way he had never been frightened before. He wasn't sure if he could comply but he had to try and maintain a low profile because, as much as Scott had meant what he had said because he didn't want Stiles to get hurt, Stiles was willing to do the same if it meant keeping Scott from getting hurt too.

Eventually sleep claimed him too and the two friends slept side by side, resting against the wall and against each other.

They had no sense of time and no way of knowing if it was day or night by the time they were woken up because, even if the room had windows, they were underground; so there was nothing there to see. The low light in their little holding room had remained unblinking during what must have been the entire night, which contributed to the fact that they were completely cut off from the world outside.

To their surprise, no violent means were used to wake them up but Rivers didn't waste the opportunity to taunt them on their way out.

"If I had known you too were so close I would've asked for an individual room. You two are using the same bed anyway" he sneakered but they paid him no mind. He just didn't know what he was talking about. This time, only rivers remained from the party of last night; now there were only two other guys and Rivers to escort them out. Their hands were cuffed behind their backs and it was obvious the men didn't trust them to keep quiet. Stiles knew though, that they weren't going to do anything now; not after what had happened the day before.

Scott had been expecting to find the other prisoners walking alongside them to wherever they were going, but the rest of the doors remained eerily closed. They traveled the same path towards the first hallway with the MRI machine but instead of heading there, they crossed the threshold of the door located to the right and found themselves in an office.

A big metal desk was stationed at the end of the office with a computer right in the middle. There were a couple of chairs on one side of the room and a big cabinet going from the floor and almost into the ceiling on the other side; it had the kind of shelves used to keep files and folders. None of those things were impressive enough to grant much attention, but the one thing that dominated the room and it instantly brought the boy's eyes to it, was a screen the size of the entire wall behind the desk that divided the image into at least six different windows. One of the windows portrayed an image of the MRI machine, the other one of the cafeteria-like room behind the door of the left, the next was an image of a room just like theirs but it kept changing and showing the rooms of different people, people they could vaguely see on its corners or lying on the mattresses. They didn't recognize the other rooms portrayed on the remaining three windows and they guessed those were beyond the third door of the main hallway. What they saw, made the hairs at the back of their heads stand on end.

Inside one of the rooms there was a glass box with tubes attached to it that connected the box to the walls on either side; another room had a metal table with straps on it and a huge lightbulb on top of it. Finally, the last image showed an empty room with a big circle drawn on the floor. Scott and Stiles didn't need to see much to know what kind of things happened inside those rooms and the picture of their near future was getting darker and darker the more they found out about this place.

Suddenly, a door they hadn't even noticed, because it was hidden by the same material that the walls were made of, opened up to their left and a man wearing an expensive suit underneath a white lab coat came into the room to occupy the chair behind the desk. He wasn't exactly young, but he wasn't old either. Maybe on his late thirties but he carried an air of superiority with him that clearly signaled him as the boss around here. Scott took a special dislike to the man because he could smell the smugness coming off of him in waves.

"Mr. McCall and Mr. Stilinski" he begun to speak like a teacher would right before giving someone a detention after getting caught misbehaving in class. They should know; they had been caught way too many times in school "I'm so happy to finally have you here with us. I hope my men hasn't been too hard on you?" he asked with a repulsive smile.

"You know damn well how they've been" spat Scott "Who are you? What are we doing here? And, what do you want?" if possible, the man's smile grew wider.

"Straight to the point, I see. I always did admire your tenacity Mr. McCall…"

"Hey! Hey! Don't pretend like you know us" intervened Stiles "Now, who the hell are you?" mystery man held up a hand as if to quiet him but he noticed immediately that he had actually prevented Rivers from attacking him from behind.

"It's all right Rivers. They were told we would brief them so… My name is Doctor Evans and I'm the one in charge of this facility. Our organization is worldwide and we specialize in studying the supernatural-" he got interrupted.

"Which means you experiment on it" Stiles deadpanned.

"Experiments are required for studying certain creatures" Dr. Evans responded while sending a look Scott's way "I have to admit that getting a hold of a True Alpha is a personal victory for me and I can promise you, I will be the one conducting your studies. We have been watching you for some time now and I have to say, you're fascinating"

"Gosh, I feel flattered" Scott said almost with a growl. There was a moment of silence in which Scott and Dr. Evans looked straight at each other's eyes as if in a blinking contest and neither of them was willing to look away first. After a few seconds, Scott broke the silence without taking his eyes off the other man "Why did you take Stiles?" he asked, clearly angry. Stiles looked between his friend and the man sitting behind the desk and awaited the answer since it was a question he had been meaning to ask as well. If this organization experimented on supernatural creatures, then why did they take him too?

"Mr. Stilinski is a part of our most recent project for two reasons, one of which you could witness yesterday when you were collected" it was incredible how this man could so easily disguise words like 'experiment' and 'kidnapping' by using 'project' and 'collecting'; he kept explaining "to keep you in line Mr. McCall. Like I've said, we have been watching for some time and since this is the first time we're dealing with a True Alpha, we decided it was in everyone's best interest to have a sort of insurance card with you" great, 'cause that didn't make Stiles feel used at all "and what better way to make sure you give us your full cooperation than to have your best friend, your… _brother_ … here as well" Scott didn't know what else to do to express his anger but to glare at Dr. Evans as if with just looking at him he could murder him right now. How deep into their lives had these people investigated to know the kind of relationship he had with Stiles? The Doctor had used the word 'brother' to describe it and he couldn't have been more right. It made Scott sick to his stomach the idea of Stiles getting hurt because they wanted to keep _him_ in line.

"And the second?" Stiles asked, interrupting Scott's train of thought. What else could they possibly want with Stiles?

"Well, Mr. Stilinski, it's not like one can encounter a nogitsune on every corner" Stiles's stomach dropped. His heartrate spiked dangerously and he started rubbing his hands together behind his back.

"I'm not…" he started to say but when his voice got stuck in his throat, he had to clear it to continue "I'm not a nogitsune"

"I know all about your fight with the demon and trapping the thing again. But Stiles… Can I call you Stiles? You were possessed by it. It became a part of you, it controlled you, it combined with you, it made you do things you never thought you'd be capable of. Do you really think that doesn't leave a connection? Do you really think, it's not still inside of you?" now Scott really wanted to kill the guy, not just with a glare but with his bare hands. Stiles's heart was beating so fast that he feared it would burst out at any second. Scott knew how hard it had been for Stiles to come to terms with what had happened to him and with the aftermath of the possession. It had taken a lot of effort to finally convince him that none of it had been his fault and only once had he admitted to Scott he was still scared that maybe the demon hadn't completely left. Hearing what Dr. Evans was suggesting must have been rattling his core and Scott would have none of it.

"Don't listen to him" he said, but his friend's eyes were glued to the desk "Stiles! You know that's not true! It's gone and it's never coming back" Dr. Evans smiled widely at having managed to inspire some fear into the boy and so he dropped the matter for now.

"We'll see about that" he said and then turned to Rivers "I think the first session can start now. Follow the protocol and handle them separately" the men came forward to take a hold of the boy's arms and lead them out of the room but before they could be taken away, Stiles stepped out of his stupor and managed to let out one last thing.

"If you know so much about us then you know who my father is and the entire Sheriff's Department is gonna be looking for us. You won't get away with this"

"We'll see" Dr. Evans said, and then the door to his office was closed.

Scott and Stiles looked at each other once before the last door of the hallway they had yet to enter was pushed open and Scott felt like he had hit a wall. He realized now that he had been wrong; the incredibly strong scent of fear that seemed to linger in the air of this whole place didn't originate from the holding rooms, it originated from here. The scent was so overwhelming right now that he actually fought against the men pushing him forward. It was an animal reaction, pure instinct of wanting to get as far away from that place as he could and he was losing all rational thoughts about it.

He could feel the men's hands on his shoulder trying to keep him in place and he heard their voices but he couldn't understand what they were saying. His entire body was caught up in one instinctive response: flight. He felt like the first few full moons of his life when his rational mind couldn't control the shift and panic was starting to grip at his heart until Stiles was shoved into his vision by Rivers, who had an arm around his neck and was effectively asphyxiating him. Stiles's face was turning a dangerous shade of red and his eyes were pooling with unshed reflexive tears.

Scott concentrated on that image to try and regain control over himself. He couldn't let Stiles get hurt because of him and he needed to behave to protect him. He started taking deep breaths through his mouth and letting his body flag to relax his defensive posture. He could do this, he needed to do this. Whatever lay behind the new doors standing in front of them, he could take it. He could take it as long as Stiles was okay. Noticing the change in posture, Rivers let go of Stiles who doubled over and leaned against the wall without falling to the floor, coughing, and breathing heavily. He looked up at Scott and nodded to let him know that he was okay and then glared at Rivers from the corner of his eye. He hated that guy.

"It's really good to know that the trick really works"

And then Scott was pushed forward into the first room to the left, while Stiles was hauled up and guided towards the one in the middle. As always, what awaited them after passing through another door was a mystery and this time, they would have to face whatever came next, alone.

 **TWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTW**

 **I guess you can imagine what's gonna happen on the next couple of chapters! The heavy testing will begin!**

 **For the guest who reviewed the last chapter (SOLOSOYUNAMAS) you have nailed it! Stiles was taken also because he had been possessed by the nogitsune… I hope the story line meets your expectations**

 **Another request anyone would like to make? Remember that I'm open to suggestions that will actually help me a lot into developing this plot!**


	6. The Beginning

**Welcome back! I would like to thank all of you for your wonderful comments. I love them and they make my day. I had some trouble trying to write this chapter but, hopefully, you will like it… remember to leave a comment or a request!**

 **Chapter 6:** **The Beginning**

The sight that greeted him didn't exactly surprise him, but it wasn't a welcoming one either.

He was still breathing heavily from the ordeal outside the room and his heart rate wasn't going to slow down anytime soon. His hands were freed and he rubbed his hands together trying to get some feeling to return to the tip of his fingers; not that it mattered because he was soon gonna be strapped to the table in front of him.

Stiles was asked to remove his shirt and before Rivers could intervene by his lack of movement, he complied and threw it to the floor. Thankfully, he wasn't asked to take anything else off. Rivers then stepped forward and yanking him by the arm, guided him to the table where he had to lay down. He shivered against the cold metal making contact with his bare skin and he swallowed feeling perspiration starting to coat his forehead.

He could have congratulated himself on how professionally he was handling the situation, doing what he was told and not protesting about anything. That was, until the straps began to get fastened around him. His breathing started to quicken and his body couldn't help but tug at the restraints. He glanced at Rivers, who was pulling on the straps for his left wrist and smiling wickedly at him when Stiles couldn't help a small grunt; the restraints were too tight. After securing his ankles and wrists, Rivers fastened a strap over his knees, then one over his chest and finally, the worst of all, one over his forehead. By the time the guy was finished securing everything in place, Stiles was left with a minimal amount of space to move, no matter how much he struggled against the leather straps. What were they going to do to him? What were they doing to Scott right now? How would he survive whatever's gonna happen next? This whole scenario was starting to resemble a Frankenstein novel and Stiles silently prayed that these nutjobs wouldn't cut him open... At least not while he was still alive and very, very conscious of everything.

"All yours Doc" Rivers said when he was done and stepped out of Stiles limited range of vision.

With his head held in place by the strap on his forehead, he couldn't see much but he could still hear an approaching set of footsteps coming closer to the table. A man appeared right above him and extended his arm to turn on the light directly on top of Stiles. He had to shut his eyes close due to the brightness of the light but after a few seconds, if he squinted, he could maintain his eyelids open enough to see what the man was doing.

The man didn't talk or give any indication of what he was planning on doing to him, he just started fumbling with some cables; concentration the only sort of emotion etched on his face. As long as this 'doctor' was concerned, he could have been about to cut open a potato. After assembling together a group of patches on the side of the table, he picked up one by one and placed them on different parts of Stiles's body; he put a couple of them on top of his ribcage, one directly over his heart, then another two on either side of his neck and, finally, one on his forehead and one on each temple. A pulse oximeter was clasped on his left index finger and then a blood pressure cuff was attached to his upper arm. The man measured Stiles's blood pressure and wrote down the numbers on a paper. Stiles was sure his heart frequency must have been off the charts and he felt like his heart would never beat normally again after this.

After the pressure cuff was removed, the doctor grabbed a needle and inserted an I.V line directly into the inside of his left elbow. The prick of the needle was uncomfortable, but it hadn't been painful. Stiles hoped that would be the most painful thing that would happen to him but somehow, he doubted it.

A bag of saline solution was hung over his head and the injection site was secured with a tape over the inserted needle. Stiles closed his eyes for a second and swallowed the nausea that had taken residence on his stomach a few minutes ago; this, whatever this was, was about to begin. He opened his eyes once more when he heard noises he couldn't connect to an image because the doctor had gone farther away from his vision, and started closing and opening his hands in order to give himself the false sense of at least being able to move something. The rattling noises ceased and the doctor walked to the table again, this times holding a sharp scalpel in his newly gloved hands.

"What... What are you gonna do?" Stiles asked because he couldn't keep pretending like he was calm when there was a sharp object closing in on him "Hey! What are you doing!?" but the man didn't answer; he just proceeded into cutting a thin line over his right clavicle. Stiles grunted in pain, pulling on his restraints, and biting on his lower lip to keep from crying out. The cut wasn't too deep but it still started bleeding and he could feel the blood running towards his shoulder and then pulling on the table. The doctor grabbed the light above him, which turned out to be mobile and focused it closer to the wound, then walked around the table to get a closer look at it. He stood over it, hands holding a pen and the previous paper as if waiting for something to happen and guessing what it was, Stiles spoke with anger in his voice "It's not going to heal if that's what your waiting for because I'M HUMAN!" the man regarded him with cold eyes and after checking his wrist watch once, he scribbled something on the paper.

After confirming that he wasn't spontaneously healing, the next phase of the evaluation consisted on injecting him through the I.V. line with different and unknown substances to him. At first his heart had constricted with apprehension but after the first two kinds of liquids pushed into his body, he started to calm down again because nothing had happened. He didn't feel any different and he guessed that whatever information being transmitted from the patches attached on his body to whatever machine they were connected to, wasn't any different either. Or satisfactory, if the doctor's frown was any indication.

By the third injection though, Stiles did begin to feel something. Actually, he began to feel too much.

The metal under his body felt harder and impossibly colder, the leather straps felt even more constrictive and the uncomfortable sensation from the material rubbing against his skin was reaching a burning scale. His breathing rate increased by a ten-fold, the air rushing in freezing his nostrils and the air rushing out burning them. He tried flexing his legs without remembering that he couldn't and when the contact between the straps and his knees strained, it felt like the leather was pulling down on bruises he was sure he didn't have before and it was painful. He whimpered when he first tried to talk, but then managed to ask.

"What's happening!?" his voice betrayed how alarmed he was; not that it had been a secret. Finally, the doctor decided to break his silence and answer back.

"You've been administered a drug that enhances the sensibility of your body by overstimulating your sensitive nerves. You should be able to feel small and mild stimuli that otherwise the human body wouldn't normally perceive" Stiles swallowed.

"Wh... why?"

"If we're gonna try and draw a supernatural creature from within you, you need to be stimulated correctly. Wolves can be made to transform when a certain pain threshold is achieved. We're gonna do the same to you"

"But I'm human! There's no creature inside of me! I'm not a nogitsune anymore!" yelling hurt his throat more than it should and he ended up coughing at having a tickling sensation inside of it, which in turn led to his abdomen constricting with every cough and his body hurting more than it should by the pressure from the straps and the contraction of his muscles.

He figured he should stay as still as possible to avoid anything that could stimulate his senses and, for a while, it worked. Right until the doctor sliced another line with his scalpel; this time, on his right arm and longer than before. The cut was so unexpected and his senses were so activated that he couldn't do anything other than scream.

With the drug working on his blood stream and his nerves at their peak, Stiles felt like his arm had been completely cut off. If the drug allowed his body to notice small and mild stimuli, then it also enhanced the ability to feel stronger ones and so a cut that would normally had only ripped a few curses from him, was now making him pull on his restrains and scream because that just made everything worse.

He literally couldn't escape the pain and the more he moved, the more everything hurt. The doctor stood over him, watching, and taking notes, and Stiles wanted nothing more than to rip his head off. Couldn't they understand that no matter what amount of pain they put him through, they wouldn't get what they wanted? Sure, he had doubted when Dr. Evans had been saying all those things about being connected to the demon, but logically there just couldn't be anything left of it inside of him. They had used that magic box made from the nemeton to trap it and since then, there hadn't been any indication of it being still in his body. These tests were ridiculous and totally unnecessary, and they were painful as hell.

He endured at least five more minutes of the agonizing struggle when he remembered that the best option for him right now was to remain as still as he could. He closed his eyes and breathed heavily through his nose. The pain in his arm was still excruciating but at least the pain in the rest of his body had gone down to a manageable level.

The doctor then used another syringe to inject another liquid into his body and Stiles couldn't help but fear what the result of this new drug would be. To his surprise, he didn't feel worse than he already did and the doctor actually left him alone for quite some time; enough, he thought, for his senses to recover some normality. That didn't mean, though, that he didn't feel everything ten times more than he should be able to when he came back and started addressing his wounds, cleaning them first with some cotton and alcohol, applying antiseptic and bandaging his arm. The doctor noticed Stiles's skeptical look and sighed before explaining.

"Contrary to what you would believe, we need to keep you as healthy as possible for you to be a reliable subject. We don't want you dead. We actually need you alive"

"Whatever" was his only reply. He didn't believe a word of what he had just been told. He was sure that, as soon as these people got what they wanted from them or, in his case, realize they couldn't get it, then he and Scott were as good as dead. They were just going to suffer a bit in the process.

After a while, Rivers, who had never left the room and had been standing on a corner watching the whole thing, came into Stiles's vision again and started unfastening his restraints. He was glad to be able to move again and the first thing he did was lay on his side and press his injured arm to his chest. His breathing was still irregular and he still felt hopelessly exposed.

"Get down" Rivers commanded and Stiles moved ever so slowly. Too slow, apparently, for River's liking.

"No, wait!" Stiles protested when he saw the other man approaching menacingly but was too late to avoid the push that felt like a car had just hit him on the back and pushed him over the table. The landing was equally painful and he knew it would take some time for his nerves to get back to normal completely. The effect of the drug had died down a bit, but the aftereffects still included high sensibility.

He found his t-shirt on the floor and put it on, thankful for the little protection it offered from the cold air lavishing his skin. He moaned when Rivers hauled him up by his upper arm but kept his lips pressed together when the man fastened the metal cuffs around his wrists with enough force to cut open part of the skin; he didn't want to give him the satisfaction of hearing how much it had hurt him.

Grabbing him by the arm and digging his fingers into it, Rivers guided him out of the room and all the way back to the holding area. Stiles didn't waste the opportunity to glace at the door Scott had been pushed through but it was closed and he couldn't see or hear anything beyond. He could only hope Scott hadn't suffered much and that he would be already waiting for him in their room.

No such luck. Whatever they were doing to him, they hadn't finish so Stiles was left alone to check on his recent injuries and wait for his friend.

When the cuffs had been taken away, he cleaned the little smear of blood on them and then went to the sink at the corner of the room. He opened the water and, conscious of how sensible his body still was, he used the tip of one finger to test its temperature before placing his shaking hands underneath the running water and rejoicing in the feeling because it wasn't painful, it was actually soothing. He then bent down to splash some water into his face, cleaning his forehead because it still must have had blood stains from when he had rubbed it on Scott's shoulder, and then he drank until his stomach protested, suddenly realizing how thirsty he had been. Later he used the toilet to relieve himself and went to the left mattress where he carefully sat down to rest his back against the wall, much like they had done the night before.

He examined his arms and saw purple bruises already forming where the leather straps had been and he guessed the rest of the places that had been held fast were also showing signs of bruising. It wasn't just because he had pulled on the restraints while trying to escape the pain, but because the drug had made sure that even the slightest of touches would leave their mark, exactly like the fingerprints all over his upper arm from where Rivers had deliberately pressed harder than necessary.

Stiles let out a deep sigh and let his hands rest on his lap for a moment before bending his knees and bringing them to his chest. He hugged his legs and rested his forehead on top of them.

He was tired. He was hurting. Incredibly, he was hungry. He was scared. He was angry. He was worried… and this was just the beginning. Things were bound to get worse and just for a second, he was glad Scott hadn't been brought back to the room yet because he wouldn't have wanted his friend to notice the lonely tear that escaped his watering eyes and slid down his face.

This was just the beginning.

 **TWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTW**

 **GOSH! This chapter was so hard to finish… I had the hardest of times trying to get this scene right and I hope I did it justice. I have to confess this is the first time I've written anything remotely related to torture and it's proving to be challenging, but I'm enjoying the process. I have a lot of dark ideas for this kind of scenes but sometimes it's difficult to write them down the way I envision them in my head. Never the less, I hope you enjoyed it.**

 **Turkey2003: I hope you liked reading the Stiles centered chapter and I would love to know your opinion.**

 **Actually, I'd love to know everyone's opinion! So please please please leave a review and thank you so much for reading!**


	7. Roar

**Hello! I'm sorry for the long wait but here's the next chapter! I enjoyed writing this so much and I thank you all for the amazing reviews, I'm so happy that you guys liked Stiles's chapter and I really hope you like this one!**

 **I will take into consideration all your ideas and requests and I will try to write all of them down!**

 **Chapter 7:** **Roar**

God, how he hated wolf's bane.

After doing a physical evaluation that consisted on drawing some blood and measuring his blood pressure and heart rate, he had been locked inside the spooky glass box they had seen on one of the screens when they'd been briefed earlier inside Dr. Evans's office, and had remained there for at least a couple of hours; and that had only been the time he had been conscious enough to keep count. Otherwise, he had been so out of it that he could have actually been in there for days and he wouldn't have even know.

His whole body ached, like the kind of dull pain you got after the first lacrosse practice at the end of the summer break; his head felt like a drill was being driven from side to side, back and forth, constantly; his vision swam and he was sure that if there was anything left to throw up, he would've done it by now. His arms and legs were so shaky he was no longer able to hold his own weight and so he was sprawled on the floor, resting on his side. His breathing: barely strong enough to fill his lungs entirely. So, overall, he felt like shit.

Dr. Evans and another lab rat had remained behind a panel of computers, conducting the experiment and keeping track of the data being transmitted from the patches stuck around his body and a couple of guards, Brig included, were standing watch near the door and ready to intervene if he got ' _difficult_ ', as they had phrased it. Not that he could be much difficult right now if he couldn't even hold his own weight alone.

At the beginning, the gas pouring out of the tubes connected to the glass box hadn't been too strong, only managing to make him dizzy before the gas was extracted via the tubes again. He knew the gas must have contained some kind of wolf's bane or mountain ash but the concentration wasn't enough to actually face him. But then the exposure time got progressively longer, producing the headache that had only gotten worse since then, and turning on his wolf instincts which he tried to subdue as long as possible because he knew that the poisonous gas would only feel worse if he transformed although, eventually, he couldn't help it. His eyes changed color, his claws came out and his facial features transformed. He had fisted his hands to keep from making any kind of sound because he didn't want to give anyone the satisfaction of seeing him in discomfort, specially Brig, whose eyes never left the struggling wolf inside the box.  
By the time they changed the type of gas, Scott had been already on his knees, breathing heavily through his nose and working hard on staying calm, but the new brand of wolf's bane being pushed into the box was a hundred times worse than the first one and, soon enough, he found himself coughing, not able to entirely fill his lungs with oxygen and feeling the poison burn on his insides. His heart rate increased, not only because it was trying to compensate the lack of oxygen, but because he was getting afraid; well, more than he already was. He thought these people hadn't wanted to kill them right away but they sure were giving it a try with this experiment.  
The poison was suffocating him and the desperation of not being able to breathe made him hit the ground with his fists while wheezing in and out between spasms of coughing. He ended up lying completely on the floor and it wasn't much longer before he had lost consciousness... The first time.

He came around some time later, back into human form, to discover some black vomit near his head and the shaky feeling that never again left his body.

"Excellent Mr. McCall" came the insufferable voice of Dr. Evans through a speaker on the roof of the box "your timing is admirable. You lasted far more than the average wolf without passing out. Now, if you could please stand up, we need to measure your muscle strength"  
Scott didn't even bother to answer, he just gathered all his strength and got up from the floor, stumbling in the process and ending with his back against one of the walls and his hands resting on his knees. His breathing was irregular, but he was glad the test was over and he could breathe in some well needed oxygen. At the time, he had no idea that the test had only begun.

He had foolishly waited for any of the guards to come and get him out of the box and back to his room, but what he got was another dose of wolf's bane being pushed through the tubes and into his system. This time, his body was weak from the previous test and he fell to the ground, wolfed out, way sooner than the first time. It wasn't much longer before he couldn't breathe again and he clutched at his chest uselessly only managing to scratch himself with his own claws.  
The process was exactly the same and once he had thrown up and fallen completely unconscious to the floor, the gas was withdrawn and he was left to slowly come around. Getting up from the floor this time was almost next to impossible and Dr. Evans had to settle for him just being able to get on his hands and knees. His body was shaking with the effort and that was the first time he had noticed the lingering ache deep within his bones.

By the third time he woke up from unconsciousness, Scott could tell he had been out of it way longer than before. He woke up to an air cleaned box, but he still had trouble expanding his lungs enough to take a proper breath. There was a foul taste in his mouth and he realized he had thrown up again, a disgusting mix between black, red and brown. He didn't know if he could handle much more of this, but apparently his captors had more faith in him than they should.  
By the forth try, he let out a low moan of complaint at feeling the sickening gas reach his nostrils all the way to the floor. This time, he didn't even wolf out before passing out.  
When he came to again, he was lying in the exact same position as before and no one asked him to get up because it was pretty obvious for everyone right now that he just couldn't. He clenched one of his fists and brought it slowly to his forehead, where the drilling pain had intensified, shutting his eyes and hoping that this time, the test had been really over. He should've known better.

"Alright Mr. McCall, we're gonna repeat the process one more time and then you can rest for the remaining of the day" Scott's stomach dropped.

"No..." he whispered because it was as loud as he could speak right now "No, no, no..." he said slowly, as if just those two letters were painful to even think about.  
He couldn't go through the process again! He was sure that he wouldn't survive another exposure to the poisonous gas. Hell! He wasn't even sure how he'd managed to stay alive so far. He remembered the time Allison's mother had tried to kill him much in the same manner as this and with just one exposure he had very nearly died. These people thought they knew a lot about werewolves and supernatural creatures but didn't they know that no wolf could survive that much exposure to wolf's bane? Couldn't they see that he wouldn't wake up from another try?  
Well, the only answer he got was the hissing noise of the gas being pushed inside the box. He started hyperventilating even before the poison reached him and he pulled at his hair desperately, trying to control the terror that had invaded him. He was going to die, he was sure of it. Stiles would be left alone with these crazy people, he would never see his mother or his friends again, he would never graduate, never go to college. He would never live his life.

When he started coughing, it felt like his chest was on fire and soon enough, his chest constricted so much that he stopped breathing all together. This was it. This is how he was going to die and he was scared. He thought about Stiles again and how he hadn't been strong enough to survive this so he could stay and try to protect his best friend, and that's when he started to get angry. Angry at himself but mostly angry at Dr. Evans and his entire gang of psychopaths. They treated the supernatural as if it didn't hold any trace of humanity when in reality, the ones who had lost their humanity had been them.

With the new surge of anger came the ability to take another rattled breath and with the fire coming in, his anger flared even brighter. He could not die! He would not die today! He would go back to his friend and they would get out of this place. By the time he managed to suck in another breath, his eyes were glowing bright red and his features were struggling to change. He gathered all the strength he had left and roared. He roared for the fear settled deep inside his chest; he roared for Stiles; he roared for the anger taking residence in his heart and for the defiance against his captors. He just roared.

The gas was then taken out and he was left panting on the floor, back to human form, barely hanging into consciousness but very much alive. He could hear a voice coming from above him but he only caught a few words here and there.

"...excellent...strength...true...today..."

Dr. Evans was smiling. Scott's results were extraordinaire and this had just been one evaluation. They had certainly hit the jackpot with this one. After finishing his recording of Scott's vitals and neurotransmitters, he ordered the guards to take him back to his room. Scott was awake but he could have passed for a rag doll and nobody would've known the difference. Brig picked him up from the floor with the help of the other guard and they didn't even bother cuffing his hands behind his back because he pretty much couldn't move anyway.

Right now, the only thought dominating Scott's mind was the wish for his best friend to be already in the room. He needed to know that Stiles was okay and, if he was honest with himself, after what he had just gone through, he just needed the company of his best friend. Nothing short of that would make him feel better at the moment.

The surge of anger that had gotten him through the test had already dissipated, leaving him with nothing but fear and pain inside. His head, his muscles, his bones, his rapidly beating heart; everything hurt. He must have blacked out for a few minutes because the next thing he was aware of, was Stiles hovering above him saying his name over and over again.

He opened his eyes and noticed he was lying on a mattress and for a second wondered if the guards had been kind enough to leave him on top of it and not on the floor or if Stiles had anything to do with it, before regarding the notion as unimportant.  
He took a deep breath and after noticing how clean the air was around him, he kept inhaling until he couldn't keep going and then started to get dizzy because he had stopped breathing by trying to keep sucking oxygen.

"Scott! Scott! Breathe out, let it out!" Stiles prompted and after a few agonizing seconds, Scott's lungs deflated and he was able to breathe almost normally after that; that is, if panting while clutching your best friend's hand over your chest could be considered normal "it's okay Scott, calm down. Breathe in and out, slowly. Can you slow down for me?" he asked, worry etched all over his face. Stiles decided to use one of the techniques his father used with him when he was having a panic attack and, while keeping a hand on Scott's chest (because Scott wasn't letting go any time soon) he used his free hand to grab Scott's other one and place it on his own chest. He instructed Scott to follow his rhythm and match his breathing with his, making sure he took slow and deep breaths as well. The trick worked and after five minutes Scott's breathing went back to normal. This time, a normal normal.

Stiles called his name a couple of times before noticing that he had fallen asleep and decided not to wake him. Instead he focused on cleaning and changing him with the new t-shirt Brig had thrown inside the room along with his friend. He carefully removed Scott's shirt, mindful of the vomit stains all over it and wetting one of the sleeves that had been spared from the gross liquid, he rubbed at his face and arms where some of said liquid had started to dry. When he was done, he put the new t-shirt over his head and arms as best as he could without waking him; although Stiles suspected that Scott could've slept through an earthquake right now and never notice a thing.

He sat on the floor watching his friend sleep and wondering what had they done to him. There didn't seem to be any physical wound but that didn't mean much when werewolves were involved.

Stiles sighed and settled to wait for him to wake up, whenever that would be, and tried with all his might not to keep imagining the horrible torture scenarios that had been going through his head ever since he had heard his brother's roar.

 **TWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTW**

 **Poor Scott! I hope this chapter met everyone's expectations… it was a lot of fun to write and I especially liked the bromance part at the end of it when Scott wouldn't let go of Stiles's hand while trying to breathe.**

 **I would love to know your opinions on the matter and your requests if you have any!**

 **I will go back to writing now because I'm excited…**


	8. Pack

**Hi! Here you have the next chapter. I hope you like it! This starts with a bit of an inside into what's going on with the rest of the pack and then comes back to the main theme around here: Scott and Stiles! Remember to leave your comments at the end of the chapter…**

 **Chapter 8:** **Pack**

When she got out of the jeep, she slammed the door forcefully shut and then winced because she knew that if Stiles were here, he would be complaining at the manhandling of his beloved jeep.

Lydia took a deep breath to calm her nerves and settle down the feeling of disappointment and frustration inside of her. It had now been officially 24 hours since Scott and Stiles hadn't shown up at their meeting in the animal clinic and over 15 hours since the jeep had been found abandoned in the middle of the road.

Everybody saw it as a good sign, the fact that there was no physical evidence of a car crash, but that just meant that their friends would've had to gone missing some other way; most likely, a supernatural way.

"Did you feel anything?" Kira asked her.

"No" Lydia answered "just like the past ten times I've tried" she added in irritation. What good were her powers if she couldn't help find her two best friends?

"Did any of you catch any new scent?" Kira asked Liam and Malia then.

"Nothing new. I mean, we're not the best at this yet but I think nothing has changed since this morning" answered Malia back. The moment the jeep had been found, the werewolf and werecoyote had devoted their sense of smell into trying to figure out what had happened but, so far, all they could get was the faint scent of anger and really small traces of fear. Scott's and Stiles's scent was unmistakable too but they figured that would be a given since the boys had spent great amounts of time riding that piece of duct-taped machinery over the past years. The 'scene of the crime', that being the place where the jeep had been found, had shown signs of the jeep coming to an abrupt stop and leaving tire tracks on the asphalt, which Sheriff Stilinski had explained could only mean the boys had been forced to stop by something or someone standing on their way.

Oh yeah, the Sheriff knew that his son and his best friend were missing and he was moving heaven and earth to try and find them.

The boys's scent didn't lead to anywhere because not a few feet in front of where the jeep had been found, the trail ended suddenly, which then Deaton explained as the boys getting into another vehicle and taking off. Everyone was involved in the search, and yet nothing seemed to produce any satisfactory results.

"There're only two options here" Deaton had said "either they got into the other vehicle willingly, or they were forced into it"

"Doctor..." the Sheriff had asked "knowing those two, should I be treating this officially as a kidnapping?" the veterinarian looked intently at him.

"Yes Sheriff, and knowing the kind of trouble that happens in this town, I think it's best if you don't wait for the 24-hour period to declare someone missing"

That conversation had taken place during the first hour after discovering the jeep and while the rest of the pack had been busy searching the road to get a lock on any scent that could help them find their friends. And now, 24 hours later, they were still no closer to finding out what had happened.

Liam had tried howling to see if Scott could hear him and signal back, but he was met with silence after that. Lydia had tried numerous times to get some kind of feeling or vibe from the jeep or other personal stuff related to the boys. Malia had run through the woods she knew so much about but could never smell anything remotely related to them either. Kira had gone with Parrish back to the station to see if any traffic camera was able to get something on video. Nothing worked.

Secretly, Lydia had been a little bit relieved when she actually couldn't feel anything around the jeep or Stiles and Scott's bedrooms, because that had to mean they were alive. Her, a banshee, not getting a feeling out of her friends's disappearance could only mean they weren't dead yet... Right?

"What about their phones?" Lydia asked this time. By now, they had all gathered at the Sheriff's Station to keep a close look into the search and to help out wherever way they could.

"Both signals are gone. They must be turned off or the batteries are dead because I can't get a trace on them" Parrish answered.

"But what about the last time they were connected? Wouldn't that at least point us into the direction they took after leaving the jeep? I mean is that even possible?" she insisted.

"Actually... It is! Or it should be, at least" the deputy said and his fingers started flying over his keyboard to activate the search of the last place that either phone had been turned on "wait a minute, I'm getting something!"

"Great! Then that's where we go next" said the Sheriff as everyone focused on the coordinates blinking on a map of Beacon Hills displayed on the screen.

 **TWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTW**

After the first test, nobody came for them again that day. They were brought a sandwich near what they supposed to be the end of the day but otherwise left them be.

After Scott had woken up, the boys had reluctantly talked about what had been done to them inside the torture chambers, as Stiles had decided to call them, and he had to admit that what Scott went through sounded horrible for a werewolf. At first, Scott hadn't been exactly through with his explanation, not wanting to worry him more than he already was but after a pointed remark from his part saying that watching him get pushed into the room all covered in blood and vomit, not being able to breathe and barely conscious had already spooked him all the way through, Scott had decided to tell him everything. Every little detail about what had happened since they had been separated and until now and Stiles made a mental note on a detail that could prove crucial if they wanted to give it another try at escaping this place.

So far his plan had been working; keep Scott talking enough so he himself actually wouldn't have to give a detailed explanation of what had happened to him but his friend was having none of that and Scott could tell something else was bothering him.

"Stiles, what else happened?"

"Oh you mean besides getting my nerves set of fire? Nothing much" he replied nonchalantly.

" _Stiles_ " Scott repeated, this time using a tone that left no room for arguments. Stiles just sighed.

"Really Scott, nothing else apart from that happened. It's just..." he trailed off but then managed to find his courage again. If he had made Scott tell him everything, then it was only fair he did the same "they're trying to bring the nogitsune back. They're trying to bring it out of me" he finished explaining in almost a whisper.

"Then they're wasting their time. Stiles, you know it's gone. You haven't bonded with it or whatever other crap that crazy doctor was talking about. You're _you_ Stiles, remember? The self mark behind your ear?" Stiles brought his hand up and brushed his fingers against the faint mark of what could be interpreted as a number five written backwards.

"I know that! Or... At least I think I know that but sometimes... Sometimes I don't feel like myself because there are all these images in my head, these memories that are but at the same time aren't mine and sometimes when I'm really pissed off at someone I start to get this... This urges to punch or push or whatever and I didn't use to feel like this before that freaking nightmare began"

"Hey...everyone has the right to feel angry or pissed off at someone and thinking about punching them doesn't make you a bad a person. Remember how many times we thought about punching Jackson for being an ass?" that got a smile out of the both of them "well, this is exactly the same, so don't beat yourself up about it. And don't let them get into your head Stiles" After that they stood in silence for a few minutes and then Stiles remembered something.

"I heard you, you know?" when Scott looked at him with puzzling eyes, he elaborated "when you howled, I heard you. I don't know why but I knew it was you"

"Yeah well, you were in the room next door"

"Actually, I was here. They had just dropped me off and I was feeling shitty and then I heard you and somehow I knew that I had to pull myself together and that we couldn't give up. We need to get out of this place" Scott looked at him funnily "what? Too cheesy?" Stiles asked, trying to lighten the mood.

"No, no, you... That was exactly what I was feeling when I howled and I mean, _exactly_ that; but there's no way you could've heard me. I was too weak, I kind of roared out of desperation and it was hardly loud enough for the people inside de room to hear it and if you were all the way here, you shouldn't have been able to hear it" Stiles thought about that for a while.

"Maybe you just roared louder than you think" Scott just gave him a pointed look and shook his head slowly "oookay... Then maybe-" but Scott interrupted him.

"Maybe it has something to do with us being pack!" he said as if it had come to him as a big revelation.

"Yeah and that's nice and all but I'm human remember? I'm like an honorary member of the pack"

"Exactly! And if you heard me when I was too weak to even howl like a real werewolf, then maybe Liam or Malia can hear me as well even if we're too far away from them"

"Well, what are you waiting for? Roar! Come on! Signal your location or something!"

"Right"

Scott stood up from where he had been sitting and got ready. He cleared his throat and concentrated on transmitting every emotion he was feeling into the howl. If he did this right, maybe, just maybe, they would really have a chance to get away from these crazy people and their experiments. Stiles also stood up but gave him as much space as the small room permitted and tapping into his wolf instincts, Scott let out a deafening roar.

Several things happened at once: Scott's roar reached its peak; Stiles covered his ears with his hands; a small blue light turned on above the door frame and then Scott's Howl was cut off midway. He had to bring his hands to his ears and then dropped to his knees on the ground.

"Aarrgghh!" there was blood coming from his ears now.

"Scott! Scott! What happened?" Stiles dropped beside his friend, putting an arm on his shoulder to help steady him.

"That noise!" Scott growled, clearly in pain "Argh!"

"What? What noise? I don't hear anything!" Stiles glanced around the room, trying to see, since he couldn't hear it, the source of the noise that was making his friend's ears bleed.

He noticed for the first time the blue light above the door and knowing that it hadn't been there before, he quickly reached it in search of something that suggested the noise came from it. Upon closer inspection, he couldn't find anything wrong with it and then his eyes were ripped from it when he heard Scott grunting again, trying with all his might to stop whatever he was hearing from keeping its way into his head. Stiles glanced back at the blinking light, since it was still the only thing different from before Scott's roar and… wait a minute… blinking light? He was pretty sure the blue light hadn't been blinking earlier, but before he could decide if that was a good or a bad thing, the light just simply turned out and then he heard Scott's relieved sigh. He came back to kneel beside his friend, who now had a hand on the floor for support and was checking the thin line of blood running from one of his ears.

"Scott, are you okay? What the hell was that?" he asked.

"Yeah… I'm okay now but, when I howled, this incredibly painful and high pitched sound came from out of nowhere and I couldn't finish the howl" he said baffled "Stiles, I can't roar in here"

"Well that's just great!" Stiles spat and then sat completely on the floor, resting his back purposefully against the wall and closing his eyes.

"We'll find another way" Scott tried to reassure him "we'll get out of here"

"How? How are we going to get out of this place if we can't even fight them off?" Scott kept cleaning the blood from the sides of his while answering.

"Maybe we don't need to fight our way out" he said "Maybe you're right and we just need to signal our location to the pack"

"Well, in case you didn't notice, that plan pretty much just backfired" Stiles said right back, still with that impending doom air about him.

"We'll find a way Stiles. If I can't howl inside this room, then I'll try again whenever I'm outside. On the MRI hallway, where it's closest to the surface" suddenly, Stiles eyes snapped open again and Scott could practically see the wheels spinning inside his head "what?" he asked.

"There's more than one way to signal the pack" he said mysteriously and then leaned into his friend explaining the idea he had just gotten with more details.

It was dangerous, but when had any of their plans been safe? They would try Scott's idea first, but if for any reason he couldn't complete the howl, then they would move on into Plan B… or was it Plan C? ' _Whatever_ ' Stiles thought. At least one of them had to work… right?

Right?

 **TWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTW**

 **I realize this is not my best chapter yet, but I decided to just go for it trying to awaken my muse that decided to take a very long nap today…. Originally I hadn't intended to show the pack's point of view until much later but since one of you asked, I decided to hear your request and give you a little bit of what was going on at the other side. I hope you guys liked it and if you have any other requests or comments, I would love to hear them!**


	9. True Alpha

**I am so very excited to post this chapter… I won't bore you with a long comment right now because I want you guys to read it already… so, comments at the end!**

 **Chapter 9:** **True Alpha**

The days were beginning to blur together until the point where they couldn't tell if they had been taken a week or maybe just a few days ago. The experiments they were being subjected to didn't hold a special schedule and neither did the food that was brought to them on irregular intervals of time. They supposed the food came in quantities enough to keep them alive but insufficient to provide them with much strength and soon a constant hunger settled deep in their stomachs. At least they had plenty of water whenever they wanted it and oh boy did they need it.

Normally Scott and Stiles were taken separately and at different times to their various sessions of torture, and Stiles could tell that Scott got taken way more than he was. He guessed that experimenting on a True Alpha was more important to these people than experimenting on a failed would-be nogitsune; but the times they were taken together were the worst. Every time they had been inside the same torture chamber, Dr. Evans had been the one conducting the experiment and the sole purpose of those had been to monitor one of them while the other was being hurt.

One time, Scott had been made to watch with countless of wires connected to his body while Stiles had been inside the glass box coughing and struggling to breathe with whatever gas they had been pushing inside. Another time, Scott had been the victim of the metal table and injections filled with wolf's bane while Stiles was left watching, powerless to do anything for his friend.

Yes, when they were taken together they had the worst sessions of all because watching your best friend being tortured right in front of you hurt way more than being tortured yourself. And, right now, they were about to experience one of the most terrifying experiences yet.

Scott and Stiles were being dragged through the now familiar corridors into the small space in front of the three torture chambers only, this time, instead of going into the room with the glass box or the one with the metal table, they entered the only room they hadn't made acquaintance with yet and it was definitely something they hadn't been eager to do. Just like when they had seen it through the screens of Dr. Evans's office, the room was almost bare, except for a door that led into a small closed area visible only through a window the size of those found inside interrogation rooms on a cop's T.V show, and the big circle on the floor that, upon closer inspection, turned out to be a circle of mountain ash and not paint.

The cuffs were unclasped and taken away from both boys and then one of the lab rats came closer to Scott to start attaching the different measure equipment around his body. Even if his mom was a nurse and he was familiarized with a lot of the medical equipment used to evaluate patient's vitals, there were objects being attached to his body that he had never seen or heard before; not that he really cared about it right now because his mind was focused on one very important detail: if he was the one getting measured, that meant Stiles was the one who was going to get hurt that time. The people inside the adjoining room could see on the machines that his heart rate was already accelerating.

When they were done calibrating everything and gave the okay signal to the people getting Scott ready, everyone except for Rivers either got out of the room or went inside the observation room, as Scott had decided to call it. Then Stiles was guided by Rivers inside the mountain ash circle and Scott's heart gave another leap because he was beginning to put the pieces together, just like Stiles, whose face had gone a ghostly shade of white.

"What are you going to do?" asked Scott to no one in particular but, just like always, Dr. Evans was the one to respond.

"I've been trying to understand what makes a True Alpha so especial. If you didn't get that status by taking anyone's power or killing any other alpha to obtain it, then where does it come from?"

"I've told you a thousand times already" Scott said, doing his very best to remain in control "I don't know"

"Come on Scott, you must remember something from the first time your eyes flashed a different color" this situation was starting to resemble that episode with the Calaveras in Mexico where the old woman had been trying to get an answer from him to a question he thought he didn't know the answer to "when was the first time your eyes turned from yellow to red?" Dr. Evans pressed on. Scott actually concentrated on remembering that moment and the image flowed easily enough through his mind. He looked down at the floor where the circle of mountain ash surrounded his best friend.

"I was trying to break through mountain ash"

"For what?" Scott looked up with questioning eyes to the window where he could clearly see the other man speaking into a microphone on the wall "why did you want to break through the ash?"

"To save-" his head immediately turned back to the people inside the circle "to save my boss" Stiles looked at him, having absolutely no doubt now about what was about to happen.

"Oh man..." he exclaimed and Scott could hear his heart beating faster.

"And the second time?" kept asking the man, as if this was some sort of normal conversation. Scott closed his eyes, somehow resigned to the idea of what was going to happen and seeing no benefit from angering these people more by not answering their questions when they were already threatening Stiles enough as it was.

"It was the same. I was trying to break through a circle of mountain ash to save... To save my mom" he said "and my friends" he added then with a pained look towards his friend.

"And that was when you rose through the ranks and became a True Alpha" continued the other man, more like stating a fact than asking a question "well, I've been thinking and maybe it's not about how much pain you have to be in or how much wolf's bane has to be in your system for the wolf inside to rise to the occasion and try to save you. Maybe what makes a True Alpha, well, _True_ , are his motives, his intentions; and yours have always been about one thing Scott: saving your friends. Am I right?" Dr. Evans decided to interpret his silence as a yes and Scott had remained silent because what do you say to someone who knows you that much? Having someone he had never met before know so much about him made him wonder since when they had been watching him and how could he have never realized there were people digging into his life like that? "Well then, I've decided to recreate those circumstances right here because I want to monitor the exact moment the True Alpha comes out trying to save none other than his best friend. Stiles here is going to be fighting against Rivers while you try to break through the circle; the moment you make it through, the fight stops. It's that simple, but make no mistakes, this is a life and death situation and if you're not able to do it, then Rivers would just keep going until he's dead. Are we clear?"

"You're crazy!" intervened Stiles, taking a couple of steps away from Rivers who had already begun to size him up as if deciding the best way to cook him for dinner "this fight's gonna be over before it even starts! There'll be no time for him to break the circle"

"Then I suggest he better get to it quickly" was the doctor's cold reply as he gave Rivers a signal that meant his fun could begin.

Scott's heart leaped to his throat when the signal was given and Rivers send the first punch flying towards Stiles face. Stiles went down hard, clasping his jaw with one hand and breaking his fall with the other and Scott wasted no time, he ran for the circle of mountain ash and pressed his hands against it. He immediately felt the debilitating resistance that came with just being near the stuff but he pushed through it and concentrated hard on breaking the circle; his hands began to burn and his knees began to tremble. After just a few seconds, he couldn't hold it and the wall of mountain ash pushed him back, making him land with his back on the floor. He didn't give himself time to recover and got up quickly, going back to the circle and trying again. He couldn't give Rivers any more time to hurt his friend; he had to end this now.

After the punch had landed, Stiles had scrambled away from the man, cursing under his breath and holding the reflexive tears that the hit had brought with it. How was he supposed to fight this jackass off? He was at least a head taller than he was, stronger than him and very obviously well trained. This was bound to be over before it really even started. Either way though, he wasn't going to go down without at least trying.

When Rivers got close and bent down to deliver another punch, Stiles lashed out with his feet and connected with the man's groin. He was rewarded with a grunt of pain and a bit of a falter but soon decided that would be the only lucky shot he would get. Rivers regarded him with fire in his eyes and there was really no way he could've avoided what came next. Stiles had gotten up from the floor trying to maintain some distance between them, giving a quick glance to Scott who had been pushed off the wall for a second time, until Rivers closed in on him with an agility not common on people his size, connecting his fist strongly against Stiles's stomach, making him double over from pain and pushing all the air out of his lungs; the moment he was bent over enough, Rivers clasped his hands together and brought them down into his back, making him drop all the way to the floor. The second he hit the floor, a booted foot found its target and a sound between a whine and a grunt was ripped from his lips before another fist managed to split it and a thin line of blood began to trail down the side of his mouth. Stiles remained there for a few seconds trying to catch his breath and holding into himself to push past the pain threatening to invade all of his senses.

Sure, he had taken a beating before. He had grown up being the perfect punching bag for bullies around school but this was somehow completely different. The bullies at school didn't beat the crap out of him just to provoke another person; they didn't beat the crap out of him after spending so many days locked away and being slowly malnourished; the bullies definitely didn't have military training and they did not fight to kill. Stiles was just screwed. He took advantage of the time Rivers gave him to breathe and searched Scott with his eyes. He just had to hold on until Scott could break the circle and then it would be over. His eyes landed on Scott's and he could see that his friend was trying; his eyes were already red and he was pushing against the blue tinted force with so much strength that he let out a scream of effort. Stiles could swear he was about to break it, but then Scott lost his battle and was pushed back until he hit the wall hard and slid to the floor. Stiles closed his eyes in defeat for a moment and then opened them when he heard Rivers coming closer.

He swallowed hard and started to get up, first managing to get on his hands and knees and then putting one foot against the floor to push himself up; but it was too late. He raised his left arm to protect his face but the fist still managed to hit him and although he could tell his nose hadn't been broken, it started to bleed sluggishly, painting his right hand red when he brought it up to hold it, leaving then his torso unprotected for the onslaught of kicks that followed. Kick after kick, the air was driven from his lungs and his chest felt like it was on fire. At first, when he had felt a particularly vicious kick he couldn't help but scream to try and release some of the pain, but as time went on, he didn't have enough air, or voice or strength to scream and so he was left moaning on the floor every time he inhaled and grunting every time he breathed out.

"Stiles! STILES!" Scott was desperate. He couldn't keep watching as his best friend get beaten so badly on the other side of the circle but no matter how many times he tried, he couldn't get past it. His head hurt, his bones ached, his muscles burned but, most of all, his heart was crying out for Stiles, who was very much unmoving on the ground, holding into his chest and struggling to breathe. Scott could hear his heart beating abnormally fast and also taking what must be considered as unhealthy leaps of rhythm.

Scott tried breaking through the circle again, yelling out in frustration because the damned thing Just. Wouldn't. Break. He saw Rivers closing in on Stiles again and kicking him on the back. The sound that came out of his friend brought tears to his eyes.

"STOP! Please!" he pounded on the mountain ash wall as if he was pounding on a locked door "he won't heal from this! He's human! He's got nothing to do with any of this!"

"If you want him to stop, break through the circle" came the voice of Dr. Evans.

"I can't!" he shuddered and then realized he had begun to cry; tears running down his face as he watched Stiles being dragged back from where he had begun to crawl away from the man currently slapping him around "I can't break it! Stiles! Stiles!"

"You've done it before. You can do it again" Dr. Evans again.

Rivers stepped away from Stiles and gave him time again to catch his breath; if Scott didn't know better, he would say that Rivers was making this last as long as he could because, truth be told, he could have killed Stiles long ago since Scott was failing so miserably at pushing through the circle of mountain ash.

He was still trying though, he would never stop trying, even though with every push he felt weaker and weaker. He had never been sure he could do this; it's not like he had a specific technique or anything like that. The only time he had actually managed to break through, it had just sort of happened and it's not like he had ever tried again. He was beginning to lose hope when his eyes landed on Stiles's again and even though he was clearly in pain, totally dazed and almost in the brinks of unconsciousness, he still managed to smile and give him a nod, as if encouraging him to keep trying, as if he believed he could actually do it and then something inside of Scott snapped.

How could Stiles still believe in him? How could he be about to die and still find the strength to reassure him? Stiles was only human; he had always been only human and yet, since this whole madness started at the beginning of sophomore year, he had always stood by his side, always faced whatever danger awaited them around every corner because they were brothers and how do you leave a brother behind? Stiles's answer would be simple: you don't. You never leave a brother behind. You go through hell and back for him and then bathed in a river of fire gladly because you would have that other person's back. And Stiles has always gotten his back.  
It was so unfair that people thought they had the right to use Stiles as a weapon against him and just the thought of how unfair life had been to his friend caused him to see everything before him as if coated with a bright red light.

Something was happening inside of him. The amount of anger he felt burning through his insides was all consuming. Anger at himself for failing his brother, anger at Rivers for hurting him, anger at Dr. Evans for making them be in this situation on the first place. And suddenly, he was overwhelmed by every ounce of anger he had ever felt in his entire life: anger at his father for leaving, anger at Peter for biting him, anger at Derek for being such a dick, at Jackson for making his life like hell before the bite, anger at everyone who had ever done something to him. But not Stiles. Never Stiles.

Stiles was a friend. Stiles was family. Stiles was pack. He needed to save Stiles.

And with a mind that had expanded to boundaries never known to him and at the same time narrowed into one simple objective, he pushed through the barrier with a howl that resonated deep into everyone else's brain.

By the time he reached the floor on the other side of the circle, he had dropped to all fours and was snarling viciously, baring his teeth and inching ever so slowly towards his friend, who lay on the floor with his mouth hanging open in surprise and disbelief as a fully transformed wolf came closer to him. Scott's body had shrunk in size, fur covering him entirely, a long tail stuck between his legs and eyes as red as fire itself.

They wanted a True Alpha? Very well... He would give them one.

 **TWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTW**

 **Sooooooo? Did you like it? Did you expect it? I have to admit, I only got the idea of transforming Scott into an actual wolf this very morning and I wasn't sure how I wanted to bring something like that into the picture but I think it ended up being okay… I suppose the situation made him "evolve", much in the same way Derek did at the end of season four.**

 **I hope you guys liked it and I can't wait to read your comments!**

 **By the way… I'm holding into my word of listening to your requests and so I will be writing some more on the pack's POV so stay tuned for future chapters…. Until then, I hope this satisfies your reading minds**


	10. Scream

**Of course I wasn't gonna leave it at that for today! I am not that evil! I'm super happy that you guys liked last chapter and I sincerely hope you also like this one. I would love to read your thoughts about it so when you finish reading, maybe you could leave a review? They motivate me to write so much!**

 **Anyway, back to the story… here's chapter 10.**

 **Chapter 10:** **Scream**

Lydia gasped.

"Lydia what's wrong?" Malia asked, noticing the faraway look on her friend's face. They were currently sitting through the middle of a history class trying to understand some lecture about a famous character or something like that while at the same time still investigating the kidnapping of their friends and wondering why were they being forced into attending school while who knows what could be happening to Scott and Stiles at that very instant. An instant that apparently had Lydia's banshee powers turning on high alert.

"Something's happening" Lydia whispered back while also grabbing the edges of her desk with a tight grip and tightening her lips together to avoid any sound that might try to get out. Upon seeing her face, Malia's own paled.

"Lydia don't scream" she begged in a low voice. If Lydia screamed that meant someone would die and she didn't know if she could handle either Stiles or Scott dying. Malia reached for Kira, who was sitting on the next row but a seat in front of them and signaled towards their struggling friend.

"Oh God" Kira said and immediately raised her hand to get her father's attention.

"Yes, Kira?"

"I need to take Lydia to the nurse, she's not feeling well" she said quickly, already standing up and giving her father a pointed look trying to transmit how critical the emergency actually was. Her father glanced at Lydia and noticed how tensed up the teenager was, her eyes scrunched close and her fingers digging at the table. Obviously, he had been aware of the situation and even if as a teacher he felt somewhat reluctant to support his student's unique connection to the supernatural, he really had no other choice than to let them go. He also didn't protest when Malia got up as well and left the class room with everyone else's eyes on their backs.

They guided Lydia to her own car and where somewhat relieved to see that she didn't look like she was about to scream anymore.

"Lydia, what happened? What did you see? Did you hear something? Was it them?" Kira bombarded her with questions while she got behind the wheel and started the car.

"I'm not sure what it was" Lydia started to answer slowly, trying to remember exactly how she had felt during those brief seconds inside the class room "I didn't hear anything it was more like a feeling, like someone had shocked me or burned me with something and then…" but she trailed of.

"Then what?" prompted Malia, who had occupied the back sit of the car.

"Then I felt this anger… so much anger because someone was going to-" and she stopped. Gasping again in surprise at remembering exactly what it had felt like. As always, when it was something related to her powers as a banshee, she wasn't sure how it had happened or how she could know the things she knew if she hadn't even heard or seen anything but, somehow, she was certain "because someone was going to kill Stiles" both Kira and Malia shared a look through the mirror.

"But you didn't scream. That means he didn't die, right?" Kira asked hopefully while Malia was struggling not to shift into the backseat.

"I wanted to" Lydia said, as if horrified that she had wanted to scream for her friend's death "I was ready to scream but he didn't let me" the other two girls were somehow accustomed to Lydia's strange abilities but that didn't mean they didn't need to ask for an explanation about almost everything that she said because most of the time it just didn't make any sense.

"Who?" Malia asked, somewhat controlled. Lydia turned around to look at her and then back to looking at Kira before answering.

"Scott"

"You talked to Scott?" Kira asked, getting excited at finally having some news about their friends after four days of being missing.

"No! I didn't talk to him. I don't know what happened exactly but I… I felt him" she trailed off trying to find the right words to express herself "it was like he had been standing right next to me and I could feel his anger, like it was physically burning me. It felt like he was angry at me because I was about to scream and so he didn't let me and the scream went away" she finished explaining, strangely satisfies because she had managed to explain herself almost perfectly.

"Right, so what does it mean? How is that going to help is find them?" asked Malia. Lydia regarded her with her usual strong and confident look, back to normal after the remnants of her feeling faded away.

"It doesn't. But it tells us one thing: they're still alive" she stated "and we better hurry up and find them before they aren't anymore"

 **TWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTW**

Stiles blamed it on the concussion, because he had to have a concussion after all the times Rivers hit him on the head. How else could he have been seeing his best friend walking towards him looking like a dog? Only, it wasn't a dog… it was a wolf.

He had never even considered the possibility that Scott could do that. The only other people he had watched transform into a complete animal had been Peter (although he had been more like a monster), Laura, Derek's sister killed by Peter and Derek himself; so he had just associated the whole dropping-to-all-fours thing to the Hale family. To say that seeing Scott as a wolf was disconcerting was an understatement. He also wasn't about to complain if that meant the beating was over because he had broken the circle of mountain ash.

Scott had come to step between Stiles, who was lying on his side on the floor, and Rivers, who had lost the amusing smile and had adopted a defensive stance, reaching to one of his tools attached to his belt and bringing out the electricity baton. Scott just snarled louder while flexing his legs a bit, getting ready to leap forward. But other than that, no one moved.

"Well, this is fascinating!" exclaimed Dr. Evans through the mic and his voice reverberated on the tense silence that had been only interrupted by Scott's vicious snarls "Mr. Rivers, please secure the wolf so that we can take Mr. Stilinski to get looked at and then we can do more tests on Mr. McCall" back to formality, Stiles thought. But the moment the other guards were called into the room and Rivers made a move forward, Scott backed away until his back legs were touching Stiles's stomach and, if possible, he growled even louder than before, showing his very scary looking, pointed teeth. Everyone had their electricity sticks at the ready but no one dared to move.

"He's not gonna let us get near the other boy" one of the guards commented, at which Dr. Evans opened the door to the observation room and stepped outside. A tail of curious and somewhat frightened lab rats behind him, holding notepads on their hands and scribbling information they were getting out of who knew where.

"Let's try something else then" the doctor said, approaching the quivering teen on the floor and the wolf hovering protectively above him as much as he dared, making sure the guards were still between him and the wolf "Let's see if he still understands our language" he regarded Scott with curious eyes and continued talking "Scott?" Scott's ears turned his way although his eyes remained unwavering, fixated only on Rivers. Dr. Evans turned to the lab rat directly behind him and said "recognition of his own name" the other man wrote the information down and then the doctor proceeded with his test "Scott… if you understand me, can you growl?" they all waited in silence for a few seconds before hearing a growl emerge from the wolf. Again, the doctor turned around to order the information to be written "growl confirmed. Cognitive follow up of the request: inconclusive" the growl could've meant he had understood what the doctor had said and had done as asked, but it could also just be an animal reaction to the situation "Scott, if you do understand what I say, you need to let us take the boy. He needs medical attention and we can give it to him. We don't want him to die, do we?" he was using a condescending tone, speaking deliberately slower because even if Scott was still somehow able to understand the language, he wouldn't be able to process it right now as a human being would. Incredibly, Scott's eyes turned from Rivers to Dr. Evans, but he still wasn't dropping his defensive posture "Okay Scott, I can see you understand. Now, how about getting away from Stiles so we can take a look at him?" Scott attention was then ripped away when the guards started closing in on them and whatever moment of clarity he might have had was lost in the imminent sensation of wanting to protect his pack member. His injured pack member. His eyes started to dart between Rivers and the other guards, and his snarls became and ever present sound coming from the depths of his throat. Dr. Evans decided to use a different tactic. They couldn't afford to keep wasting time; he wanted to conduct some tests on Scott before he resumed his human form and no one had any idea of when that would be so, when he spoke next, he directed his words to the other teenager in the room "Mr. Stilinski, now would be a good time to talk to your friend and get him to step aside"

"No thanks" Stiles replied, gaining a little bit of energy and supporting himself on his forearms, frowning in pain when the movement pulled at his injuries. Dr. Evans cleared his throat, visibly getting impatient.

"Let me rephrase that. Tell your friend to get away from you and let us take you, or we drop him some other way" Stiles swallowed, glaring at the man with hate in his eyes. He knew he had already lost the battle of wills because he would do anything to keep his friend from getting hurt. He hung his head in defeat and got ready to convince his friend, his very furry friend to do as he was told. He knew Scott was strong and now that he was in complete animal form, he must have been even more dangerous than he was before, but somehow Stiles thought that it just wouldn't be enough against so many people holding electric sticks and cornering them in a small room. They would eventually get to them and obtain what they wanted. And isn't that the way they had managed to achieve everything from the start anyway? Threatening to hurt one of them so the other could do as he was told? Stiles hated it with all his might, and the reason of his hate relied on the fact that the technique was effective. It just worked every single time, and so he just did the only thing he could do.

"Scott" he whispered, not needing to speak too loud because his friend was only inches away "you have to step away" he knew Scott had listened to him because his ears had turned his way. What he wasn't sure of was if his friend had understood because he made no move to get away. Stiles sighed and, getting a little bolder, brought one of his hands up. He hesitated before touching Scott's back, not knowing how he would react but eventually decided to just do it. What was the worst that could happen? Scott biting him? He would just add it to the list of injuries he already had "Hey, Scotty? Come on, just step away. I'll be fine. They want to fix me up after all" this time he did get a reaction as Scott turned not only his ears but his head completely to look at him. He regarded him with red for a moment before turning them back to brown and staring at him for a second "It's okay. I'll be fine. Just step away" Stiles was also deliberately keeping his sentences short.

"He could still die if we don't treat him" intervened Dr. Evans, but Scott remained looked at his friend as if making sure Stiles was speaking his own mind; which he was, in a way. Stiles nodded and ever so slowly, Scott turned his head to stare at the people around them, turning his eyes red again but surely inching farther away from Stiles and backing into the wall behind them, careful not to step on the rest of the mountain ash circle. Stiles hated every second of it because it felt like Scott was backing into a corner, waiting to be attacked by the other predators of the room at any moment.

Two of the guards came slowly closer to Stiles, afraid that any sudden movement would change the wolf's mind, and picked him up from the floor. The teenager did his best to not release any of the sounds or profanities that begged to be let out of his mouth at the pain that being carried away brought upon him and instead focused the last bit of energy he could muster into one hearty plea when he passed by Dr. Evans.

"Please, don't hurt him" the other man didn't even look around to pay him any attention and Stiles felt his eyes watering when he heard the first pained whine coming out of Scott at being stricken with electricity "Please!" But there was nothing he could do. With one last look inside the room before his body was completely carried out, he shouted desperately "I'm sorry Scott! I'm sorry!"

The door was slammed shut and he was left with a sinking feeling in is chest that he had just condemned his friend to countless hours of torture because he had transformed into a full wolf trying to save his life. The excitement and curiosity on Dr. Evans's eyes had been unmistakable and he surely wouldn't miss an opportunity to find out how had a Werewolf, a True Alpha, become a full size wolf right before his eyes.

While he was being dragged away, tears were making the way slowly down his cheeks and they had nothing to do with his physical pain. Then kind of pain he was experiencing went beyond and above than and he just waited and welcomed gladly the darkness when unconsciousness finally claimed him.

 **TWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTW**

 **Holly Cow! Was this hard to write! I feel like this chapter was super intense. Did you like the pack's appearance at the beginning? I thought it was really special the fact that Scott had been so angry about the idea of failing his brother that he even stopped Lydia from screaming her "premonition" of Stiles's death.**

 **I'm sorry if at some point the chapter got… I don't know… cheesy… but I'm trying to portray how important the bond between Scott and Stiles really is because if there's one thing I love about them and the show is the bromance between them.**

 **Now, I think that from here on and for a couple of chapters, the theme will get even darker so, when I consider it necessary I will give you a warning at the beginning of the chapter.**

 **I hope you guys enjoyed reading two chapters on the same day and I will try my very best to write the next one right now… Have faith… another chapter might still make its way online today…**


	11. Plan C

**First of all I want to apologize for not being able to deliver on the third chapter on a row the same day because some stuff happened and my mind just wasn't into it. Thankfully, nothing serious and now I'm back with the story a hundred percent.**

 **This chapter is really heavy on the bromance, so for all of you bromance-lovers out there: this is for you.**

 **P/S: I also think wolfy Scott is very cute and overprotective of his human best friend. And yes… he's very fluffy!**

 **Chapter 11:** **Plan C**

When he opened his eyes, he was back in his room lying face up on the left mattress. At first, he felt groggy, as if he had slept over 12 hours straight but still felt sleepy after all that time. He forced himself not to close his eyes and instead focused on the ceiling above, breathing deeply in and out as much as his sore ribs would allow him and making no other attempt to move because he just knew it would be painful.

He started thinking back about everything that had happened and began to mentally check his injuries just to catalogue how shitty he really felt. He started with the pounding in his head, passing through a half swollen probably black eye, going over a cut on his right cheek, a sensible nose and a cut lip. Well, _damn!_ If that was just the list of his face...

He continued down! Paying attention to every ache or sensation that stood out and noticed that underneath his t-shirt (a clean one, thank God) his torso was bandaged tightly. He used his fingers to go over each and every one of his ribs, careful not to press too hard, but he needed to know if any of them were broken. If so, he could still risk complications like a punctured lung or something else like that just by moving around too much. _'Nothing's broken'_ he concluded after his inspection _'Just painful as hell'._ He also supposed bruises were a given all over his chest and abdomen, but his legs had been lucky enough to only get a few kicks each, so no real damage there.

He sighed and very slowly turned on his side to glance at the other half of the room... The very empty other half of the room, and then closed his eyes again. Scott wasn't back yet. Stiles didn't need a watch to know he had been out of it for a pretty long time and so he could only imagine what Dr. Evans needed him for during all this time and what was being done to him right now.

Stiles started to count the seconds and then the minutes silently in his head because if he didn't give his mind something else to concentrate on, he would just have to stare at the horrible pictures his overactive brain came up with to try and supply the lack of real information about his friend.

It was exactly one hour, forty-three minutes and fifty-five seconds later when the door opened. Stiles had half expected to hear a commotion and then see his friend being manhandled into the room, but Scott merely walked inside, without any noticeable limp or anything, and stood there, glaring at his captors, who hadn't entered the room and were standing by the door. His friend's docile demeanor might have been due to not wanting to create more problems for them, or it might have something to do with the long stick Brig was holding with both hands that ended with a collar around Scott's neck, the type that people who worked for Animal Control used to transport dangerous dogs and keep them safely away from everyone.

The tension was building up inside the room and Brig started to draw the collar from around Scott's neck slowly. The second he was free, Scott leaped for the man baring his teeth and barking... _'Did wolves bark?_ ' Stiles thought, but the door was slammed shut before he could reach it and so Scott ended with his front paws resting on the doors for a moment before dropping again to all fours and sniffling the bottom of the door. When he was satisfied that the men were gone, he turned around.

Yep, Scott was still completely wolfed out and Stiles was still mystified about it. He had gotten up as much as he could and was now pushed up over his left elbow, watching Scott walking towards him.

"Hey Scott... Are you okay?" Stiles didn't even know if he was actually expecting a reply. Scott just came over and started to sniff the air all around him, pausing over his various injuries and then looking intently into his eyes. Stiles stared back and he suddenly understood that Scott was silently asking _him_ if _he_ was alright "I'm fine" he lied. His friend made a noise, like blowing out a puff of air through his nose, that clearly meant he didn't believe him, but what else was he supposed to say? He decided to stir the conversation in another way "you know, maybe if you changed back to human we could actually talk" he hadn't meant for it to sound offensive at all and he definitely didn't want his friend to think that he was rejecting this new side of him, but the look Scott gave him was filled with sorrow and he lowered his head to look at the ground. Stiles thought the action was a bit of an overreaction; didn't Scott know that words usually tended to sound different out loud than what they sounded like inside Stiles's head? But then a thought struck him and he felt bad for his friend "you can't, can you? You don't know how" Scott looked up again, and after regarding him with intense brown eyes, he reassumed his hovering all around Stiles's body.

Scott could feel that his pack member was in pain; apart from being written all over his face and his stiff movements, the chemo signals were strong and they were making him feel responsible and overprotective. And feeling the responsibility of making things right for the human again, he started to run his nose up Stiles's arm and taking away his pain in the same way he would do it if he had been back in human form.

Immediately Stiles felt some of his pain drift away and even though he wanted to get drunk on the relieve he felt by even just a fraction of it being gone, he had picked up on Scott's breathing change and the deep frown on his front and he quickly pushed his head away so he would stop taking his pain. He didn't want Scott to suffer because of injuries that weren't even his own and definitely not after whatever these crazy people had done to him. But Scott was having none of that and when he felt the rejection of his help, he half climbed into the mattress, putting one leg on Stiles's chest and snarling right into his face, pressing down with his paw and showing his white teeth to demonstrate he wasn't going to take a no for an answer. Stiles stilled his movements and barely even dared to breathe.

"Alright! Alright! You're the Alpha anyway" he said and Scott reassumed his calm stance, satisfied that the other boy understood who was in charge here right now. He kept pressing with his leg until Stiles had to lay down again and then proceeded to press his nose against his friend's neck, concentrating on absorbing whatever pain or discomfort his pack member had. Stiles began to feel uncomfortable by the wolf's actions, but couldn't help feeling relieved and starting to just melt into whatever was happening between them. Scott was treating him as if he was another animal, another wolf, and was sniffing and pressing his nose against each and every one of his injuries, taking the pain and stiffness away. Stiles's muscles began to relax and he let out a sigh when he noticed he could draw a propper breath again. After he concentrated on his torso, Scott's nose came back up to his neck and then started working on his face.

At some point, the nose was replaced by his tongue, which darted over the cut on his cheek and the corner of his mouth, where the split lip had made it painful to talk. Before Stiles could even begin to think about how incredibly inappropriate it was for his best friend to be licking all over his face, he noticed that the pain behind his eyelids had also receded greatly and the light of the room didn't bother him much now. Stiles swallowed and let his body melt into the mattress, reveling in the almost pain-free feeling of his resting body and, without thinking, he brought a hand up to Scott's head and started rubbing behind one of his ears.

"Thanks" he said in a low voice, hoping that one word could actually express the level of gratitude he was feeling at the moment. Scott had turned his head a little to one side at feeling the hand gently rubbing his fur and then got down from the mattress when Stiles withdrew his hand.

Scott glanced at the other side of the room and then again at Stiles as if deciding what to do next, opting for pushing at Stiles to move further closer to the wall with his muzzle and climbing into the space next to him. He laid down with his head resting between his front legs and looked up. He noticed Stiles's right hand resting nearby, and following his feelings that at the moment weren't conditioned by any human standards, reached out to lift it up with his nose, asking to be pet down by the other boy.

Understanding the request, Stiles smiled and put his hand on top of Scott's head and started playing with his hair. Again, Scott let out a puff of air but it didn't hold any anger or disapproval; instead, it had almost sounded like a content sigh.

They remained like that for a long time, Scott pressed against his body and Stiles petting him with his hand, alternating between rubbing behind his ears, playing with the hair on his neck or simply petting him on the head. Silence dominated the room, but it's not like Stiles could maintain a hearty conversation with a wolf. For now, they were both happy to remain like that, breathing slowly and rejoicing in each other's company.

Stiles could hear a little voice deep inside his brain telling him that this kind of proximity with his best friend shouldn't have made him feel so good, that there should be some feeling of embarrassment or discomfort too, but there just wasn't any. Somehow this ended up feeling totally normal and taking into consideration that their concept of the word normal contained the words werewolf and supernatural in it, he guessed that it was just okay. This was just two pack members, one of which was the Alpha of said pack, giving comfort to each other in the middle of a desperate and almost hopeless situation. So nothing uncomfortable about that at all.

At some point, they both fell asleep and for the first time since arriving in that place, they could later say it had been a really restful night's sleep.

Some undetermined time later, Stiles woke up with his head stuck to the thin pillow and his legs and arms sprawled around. When he started to get up, he noticed that his body hurt way less than it should've after the kind of beating he had gotten the day before and was now thankful at having accepted Scott's help; not that he had given him much of a choice.

Speaking of Scott, he glanced towards the other mattress on the floor where he saw his friend resting peacefully, with his eyes open and staring at the door.

"Hey" Stiles said, clearing his throat to get rid of the sleepy sound his voice carried "glad you're back"

"Yeah" Scott answered, really glad to be able to use his voice again to communicate. There was something in his expression that Stiles couldn't quite decipher though.

"Not that I didn't like you before, when you were all transformed into wolf-mode, because that was seriously awesome! How did you do it anyway? And how did you change back? Did it hurt? What did they do to you? How much time were you with them?" the questions started to spill right out of his mouth without giving Scott time to answer any of them back until he was finished and, instead of being annoyed, a small smile was playing on his lips by the time Stiles stopped talking.

"I have no idea how it happened, either of the times. I just woke up a few hours ago, back to normal. It didn't hurt… it was just different. The things you're able to perceive as a human and as a wolf are so different that the change is like a shock, but it's not exactly painful"

"Listen Scott, I'm sorry. It was my fault that they wanted to experiment more on you because you had turned. I saw them when they were starting to electrocute you and I-" but Scott interrupted him.

"Don't apologize. It's not your fault Stiles. Whatever happens down here is no one else's fault but theirs" he said intently "If anyone should be apologizing here is me. It took me so long to break through the circle that Rivers almost killed you"

"Well it's not like pushing mountain ash is easy. I know you tried your hardest and you actually did it and saved me. So you don't need to apologize either" Scott looked like he was ready to protest but Stiles didn't even let him begin "Look, let's just agree to disagree shall we? You want to apologize, I want to apologize. How about we both just accept it and be done with it, deal?"

"Deal" Scott replied with a wider smile because Stiles was just being so…well, Stiles… that it was comforting.

"Well?" Stiles asked after a while.

"Well what?"

"You didn't answer my previous question?" Scott laughed.

"Which one?" Stiles sighed and started asking again as if he had been talking with a five-year old.

"What did they do to you? Did they hurt you? How much time were you with them?"

"Oh! Actually they didn't hurt me. Well… not much" he added after receiving a pointed look from Stiles "they electrocuted me a couple of times first to keep me in line but other than that they just did a bunch of analysis. I don't exactly remember what they did since I couldn't actually comprehend it, but I think they just mainly monitored my vitals and neurological system" again, Scott's face adopted that strange and unfamiliar expression that had been puzzling Stiles since the beginning and he finally asked the most important question of them all.

"Are you okay Scott? You look… I don't know… like sad or something" Scott kept his vision trained on the door, considering how to express what he was feeling right now to his friend. It wasn't easy to put into words and he didn't want Stiles to misunderstand him. After a moment, he decided to answer.

"I liked it Stiles" he said simply and then waited to see how the other boy would react.

"What? Being a guinea pig for these people?" Stiles asked, knowing full well what Scott had meant and just trying to lighten up the mood a bit with a joke.

"You know what I mean" Scott said, smiling a bit but still with that sad look on his face, like he had just lost something.

"Yeah… I know. Then why the long face? Shouldn't you be happy that you evolved?"

"I don't know. It's not like I had thought about it before, and it felt so different, so foreign and intense and so… _good_. And now that I'm back to human it just feels like I got a glimpse at something much greater than me and I don't know if I'll ever be able to see it again" Stiles didn't quite know what to respond to that. Scott really looked like a little boy who had gotten his favorite toy for Christmas and then it got taken away on the same day. It was like extreme joy and extreme sadness all in the same day.

"But… you'll be able to change again, right? Like, that should be your new form every time to wolf out?" but Scott shook his head.

"I already tried. I keep changing like before" Stiles was surprised to know that Scott had already tried to change back to animal form, and the look of disappointment he saw on his eyes after that last statement made him think of someone else. If having changed like that only once and for a relatively short amount of time had already left his friend feeling like something really important was missing from his life, then how had Malia really felt when they had helped her get back to human? Stiles thought that he could now understand a little bit more her anger when they had first met at Eichen House and the struggle she had to live through to adapt to her new life as a human being.

"Maybe you could ask Deaton for help with it. Or Derek… if he shows up again"

"Yeah"

After that, the conversation kind of died down and an uncomfortable silence settled between the two of them. It wasn't usual when those happened, but this one was somehow starting to grow bigger and bigger, and Stiles didn't want that to happen. They couldn't afford to be uncomfortable with each other 'till the point of not talking. And so he broke the silence.

"So… are you ready to enact Plan C?"

"Shouldn't it be Plan B?" Scott asked, glad for the change of topic.

"No. Plan A was the first time you howled in here, remember that? When blood started to come out of your ears?" Stiles said sarcastically and then moved on after the look Scott gave him "Plan B was or you to try and howl out of this room, which didn't work either because if I recall correctly, you were thrown back in here with more blood running-"

"I get it! That was Plan B. So now, we move on to Plan C" Scott said abruptly, remembering the time he had tried to signal the rest of his pack the moment he found himself on the MRI machine hallway again, just to produce the same result as when he had done it inside their room. The guards later explained that the whole building was equipped with sensors that detected whenever a howl or a roar reached a certain volume and then it released the horrible high pitched sound that only werewolves could hear and that it had been so painful his ears had been left bleeding the both times he had tried.

"That's right. So, next time you get taken away for an experiment, you remember what to do?" Scott nodded his head but never the less they went over the plan again.

As always, the plan wasn't perfect. It had many holes in it and it depended a lot on luck and Scott's ability to pretend. And that was just the first half of the plan; the other half was like a shot in the dark, a shot that would have almost no time to occur but that somehow Scott had to make it happen.

Plan C would be their official fourth try to escape that place after a week of being held in there. If this one didn't work out, they honestly didn't know what else they could do.

 **TWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTW**

 **I decided to end this chapter here because it was starting to get too monotone and I didn't want to bore you guys. I also wanted to say that I was beginning to think about adding something to the story that would definitely change the rating of this fanfic and it would darken the theme of the story. I remember saying in the first chapter that this fanfic was being written with the sole purpose of whumping Scott and Stiles and exploring the human being when reacting to things like torture and abuse happening; I'm not planning on backing down from what I want to write next but I feel like I should give you all a warning, just so it doesn't come as an unexpected surprise.**

 **Next chapter should be a safe one, but I think the one after that will be really intense.**

 **I would like to know what you guys think about it and if you're ready to read some intense physical and emotional whump of our boys…**

 **That being said, I will go back to writing now. Remember to leave a review or a request!**


	12. The Message

**I know: I AM THE WORST PERSON EVER! I am so so so so so so so sorry it had taken me so long to update this story and I have absolutely no excuse. I just had the worst case of writer's block ever! Every time I started writing this chapter I would end up deleting it because I didn't like the way it had turned out and I need these next couple of chapter to be perfect so the critical part of the story is well introduced…. I don't want anybody out there to worry about this story being discontinued because THAT WILL NOT HAPPEN. I plan on finishing this story 100% and I thank all of you for your amazing reviews, prompting me to keep writing and updating… you have been the best readers ever!**

 **This chapter won't be as intriguing as others, and I had intended to end it differently but that would have taken longer and I decided that you guys didn't deserve to keep waiting any longer, so here it is and I hope you like it enough!**

 **Chapter 12:** **The Message**

They had to wait another full day before a new opportunity showed up to activate Plan C.

It was short after they had been giving a small piece of meal that Brig and Rivers came into the room to take Scott away and guide him to a brand-new session of experiments. This time: the glass box chamber, again.

Scott knew what he needed to do, and if he played his part right, then this torture session wouldn't be as long as the other ones, but that didn't mean that fear hadn't got a hold of his heart the moment he stepped into the room and the glass box dominated his vision. A lot of things could go wrong with this plan: Dr. Evans could still conduct the experiment at its normal rate even if Scott's performance was good enough to win an Oscar; or worse, he could figure out what was happening before Scott could finish his act. He could also get lost trying to find where he needed to go because, after all, he would be poisoned with wolf's bane; and the list could go on and on, but Scott decided not to dwell on what wouldn't come for now. He needed to focus on the present and give his performance a hundred and ten percent. He would figure out the rest later.

His wrists were freed from behind him and he was told to get inside the box after the various wires and medical equipment was attached to his body. When the first type of gas started to enter the box, Scott forced himself to remain calm and in control. If he didn't want anyone to suspect there was something going on, then he needed to act like he had every other time he had found himself in the same situation.

The first few types of wolf's bane infected gases were never strong enough to cause more than a slight dizziness and some burning sensation when breathing, so he didn't worry about faking anything when those came. It was when the brand of wolf's bane changed, that he would start to feel the pain. But he was ready for it. When he felt the new gas reach his nostrils, his heart rate elevated and he started breathing faster, putting a hand on the side of his head and leaning his weight against the side of the box. He coughed a couple of times before sliding slowly to the ground with a pained grunt and then remained in that position until the gas went away. He had his eyes scrunched shut and his lips set in a tight line.

"Mr. McCall" he heard Dr. Evans's voice on the speaker of the roof "I need you to stand up" if Scott's hearing wasn't failing him, he thought he could detect some strain on the doctor's tone of voice.

Scott opened his eyes and regarded him with an angry stare before making an effort and getting up from the floor. He only got as far as resting his hands on his knees and keeping his back against the wall when the new wave of wolf's bane was pushed into the box. He whined at feeling the air burn his nostrils and then his lungs, fighting to maintain an upright position but failing and sliding down again; this time, with the all too familiar pounding headache on his brain. When the gas was leaked out, he was left breathing heavily and tugging at his hair with his fists.

"Mr. McCall, I suggest you put on a little more effort than that. We know you can last longer before dropping to the ground" this is was Scott knew would be coming no matter what.

"Haven't you ever considered the possibility that I'm just tired?" he said back, keeping his voice lower than usual to accentuate his lack of enthusiasm for the test.

"Either way I would expect you to push forward beyond any tiredness you may feel"

"And what's the point?" he asked, now lifting his head and resting it on the wall as well, using a tone of voice that could only mean he felt defeated.

"Well the point of the experiment is to measure your endurance, and endurance doesn't come without pushing past one's limits" Dr. Evans patiently explained as if he was answering a question on a class room.

"I meant, what's the point for me?" Scott asked, adopting a faraway look.

"To _survive_ " answered Dr. Evans with a pointed tone of voice. He was starting to get impatient because he didn't want to have to deal with the existential crisis of a teenager.

Scott didn't answer and, instead, remained silently staring straight ahead with a look on his eyes that clearly meant he wasn't seeing anything at all. On the other hand, Dr. Evans glared at him through the window of the observation room and pushed a button on the computer that sent the signal to release one of the strongest wolf's bane laced gasses into the box and towards him. Scott felt it immediately and his heart started hammering in his chest while he struggled to breathe until the point where he had to hit the wall of the glass box to let them know he couldn't take it anymore. He ended up lying completely on the floor, eyes closed and breathing shallow by the time the air was clean again and he threw in a couple of shakes of his upper body just for good measure. _'It has to be now or never_ ' he thought, because he didn't think he could go through another round of that last type of wolf's bane and still pretend he was completely wiped out; more or less because he would _be_ completely wiped out, no need to fake it at all.

"Mr. McCall. Get on your feet, _now_ " Dr. Evans ordered. Scott took a few ragged breaths before answering.

"I... I can't" he was lying on a fetal position and his voice sounded so weak that he wasn't sure the other man could hear it, but he did.

"Don't force me to take measures about your lack of cooperation Mr. McCall" the doctor's voice was getting an angry tone now "stand up!"

"Please" Scott begged "not today, I don't feel so good. I'm too tired"

"Push yourself!"

"I can't..." and his voice broke. His eyes started to water and he repeated himself without hiding his broken voice "I can't" there was a pause in which Dr. Evans spoke with the other lab rats surrounding him but Scott couldn't hear any of it. He eventually saw how a few nods were exchanged and then the doctor spoke through the microphone again.

"Mr. Rivers, please escort Mr. McCall back to his room and fetch Mr. Stilinski" then he addressed Scott "if you don't want to cooperate with us today, then maybe the time left of your session will be better spent with your friend"

Rivers and Brig came into the box, took away all the equipment and lifted him up; Scott stumbled and would've crashed down to the floor again if the guards hadn't picked him up by his arms. They started dragging him out of the box and towards the door but stopped for a second in front of Dr. Evans who had come out of the observation room to see him leave. Scott lifted his head slowly with his eyes at half-mast.

"Remember that I can always find a way to make you cooperate. For every time you don't push yourself to get through the tests, one of the guards will get to spend time with Stiles and do whatever they deem necessary to make you understand that this is not a game and that you don't set the terms of the experiments. Are we clear?" he finished in a cold voice and a shudder ran through Scott's spine because there was something in that man's eyes he hadn't seen before and that made him wonder if perhaps they were dealing with a mentally unstable person on top of being cold hearted and mean. At hearing the threat against Stiles, Scott hardened his stare and flashed his eyes red to the other man, but immediately dropped his head and frowned as if the change had hurt him and so his eyes turned back to brown. He sagged a little further on the guard's grip and then Dr. Evans ordered them to continue before going into the observation room again and reviewing some paperwork with the other men.

Rivers and Brig kept pulling him along until they were out of the room and into the hallway with the MRI machine on the other side. Phase one of Plan C had succeeded and apparently, luck was on his side that day because his hands remained free, him being too weak to represent a threat for the guards and so they didn't bound his wrists behind his back, just like the first time he had been experimented on inside the glass box. So, with his body completely free of restraints and only two guards to take care of, he sprang into action.

The moment the door closed behind them and they turned to their right to head to the holding rooms, Scott straightened himself and threw Rivers against the wall. The man's head connected hard with the white surface and stayed unconscious on the ground. Brig reacted instantly and reached for his favorite tool of electricity but before he could even turn it on, Scott was already sending a serious of punches to his face, then a kick to his midsection and finally an elbow to the temple. When he was satisfied that the men wouldn't get up from the floor for now, he checked that they were still alone and no one had seen what had happened. Then he bent down to grab the electronic key card from Brig's pockets and proceeded to unlock the door to Dr. Evans's office that, as expected, turned out to be empty since the doctor had yet to return from torture chamber number one.

Scott allowed himself one second to breathe and get past the dizziness he still felt from his exposure to wolf's bane (however brief it might have been that day) and to acknowledge that so far the plan was working perfectly.

He glanced beyond the desk at the screens on the wall and saw that nothing was out of place, except for the two still unconscious guards on the hallway right outside the door. He located the screen portraying the glass box chamber and saw, to his relief, that Dr. Evans was still engrossed with the rest of his team in whatever they were doing inside the observation room, so he had a green light to start searching the office.

His eyes immediately landed on the desk and the closed laptop resting on top of it. He ran towards it and lifted the screen, turning on the device and hoping against hope that the thing wasn't password protected. The screen lit up and Scott started to get anxious, checking the T.V screens behind him every few seconds in case something had changed. He jumped when the music from the laptop turning on was heard in the silence of the office and he knew that if his heart rate had been measured right now, the beeping would have been deafening.

Finally the computer turned on completely but his stomach turned when a little screen showed up asking for a password. It didn't exactly surprise him, but he cursed either way. He gave it a few tries using words like 'werewolf' or 'supernatural' but he knew there was just no way to guess it. For all he knew the password could be just a random combination of letters and numbers, and not an actual word. He sighed and turned around to check the screens again.  
There had to be another way to contact the outside world from inside this place. He had hoped it would have been as easy as sending an e-mail but since the laptop was unbreachable, there just had to be another way... Actually, a phone would have been way better. So he started searching for one.

There wasn't any on top of the desk, and no other communication device hanging on the walls or anything; but when his eyes landed on the corner of the office, he remembered the first and only time they had been in there and Dr. Evans had appeared from a hidden door on the wall. He ran towards it and found its outline almost hidden by the pattern of the wall and proceeded to press on every angle that he could until he felt the wall give away and he found himself inside a small bedroom. It was plain and simple, almost like the holding rooms they had already spent a week in, but at least the bed wasn't on the same level as the floor. There was also a small drawer and a mirror on top of it.

When he caught his reflection on the mirror, he stopped his search and just looked at himself. He looked terrible, and not because he just had a run in with werewolf poison, but because of all the crap he had been taking all week, the minimal amounts of food entering his system, the troubled and unrestful sleep, the lack of sunshine and fresh air. He had bags under his eyes, his skin was pale and sickly looking, his cheeks were sunken and his eyes looked hunted. He definitely did not look healthy at all.

He was shaken out of his stupor when he heard a noise from outside the main room and he went back to the office to check on the screens. He saw that Rivers was already up and was shaking a slowly recovering Brig. Scott knew he didn't have much time but he was glad he had thought about taking both electronic key cards so the guards couldn't get in immediately after waking up. That didn't mean they couldn't call for backup though.

He ran inside the small bedroom again and started rummaging through the cabinets, throwing clothes and other personal belongings out and into the floor, not caring about making a mess.  
He was registering the second shelve when he found it. A cellphone! He quickly turned it on and was rewarded with the screen light that indicated that at least the thing had some battery left. It wasn't the most modern of all phones but, as long as it wasn't password protected, it would serve its purpose just fine.

Another five seconds passed before the phone was completely turned on and Scott felt like crying from relief when he noticed he could access the call button and so he started dialing the only number he knew by heart, his mom's. He was disappointed but not surprised that she didn't pick the phone up and instead it went to voicemail; getting a hold of his mother during what he supposed would be working hours had always been difficult, but leaving a message was better than nothing.

He was hallway through the voicemail when the door to the main office opened and a pissed off looking Brig stepped inside.

 **TWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTW**

 **And that was it… I told you it wasn't a big deal but I just wanted you to have something new to read. I promise I'll keep working to get past my current writer's block, but I intent on making this the longer you'll ever have to wait for an update, so no other chapter should ever take this long to be posted!**

 **Remember to leave a review or a request if you want! Thanks!**


	13. Nothing

**TWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTW**

 **Hello! I'm back again! I know that you guys are very happy that I started posting again and I am too! That's why I wanted to give you another chapter to read today even if it is a really short one because this is like the introduction of what will happen next chapter. My mind is already working on the details of next chapter but I would like some thoughts from you before I write anything else down. That's why I'll patiently wait for some reviews, wishing they come fast so that I can start writing fast as well!**

 **Thanks to all of you for waiting patiently for me to update this and for sticking with this story. You're the best readers ever!**

 **Chapter 13:** **Nothing**

When Brig stepped inside the office, he was already wielding the electricity stick and when he glanced to the open hidden door, he started walking menacingly towards the only occupant of the room.

Scott knew this moment was bound to happen; the goal of the plan was never to break out, it was to send a message to the outside world, so getting caught afterwards was inevitable. He supposed he could fight the guards off, but that would just mean postponing the inevitable.

"Drop the phone, dog" Brig warned, using the same nickname he had given him the first day they went into this place. Scott just complied and put the phone back into the drawer, taking a few steps away from it and keeping his eyes on Brig and his weapon. Then Rivers walked around Brig and picked up the phone from where Scott had left it.

"There's an outgoing call here, recently ended" he stated after going through the recent calls. Then he turned to Scott "did you talk to anybody? Did someone answer you?" but Scott didn't answer. He didn't want them to know he had managed to at least leave half a message; instead, he just stared at the man now standing directly in front of him and regarded him with hard eyes. After just a couple of seconds, the first hit came. An elbow driven straight to his head. He stumbled and brought his hand to the spot he had been hit, but made no other attempt to move. Rivers then punched him in the gut, driving the air out of him but Scott remained standing, not willing to be taken down so easily but not defending himself either.

When Brig noticed what was going on and Scott's defiant but somewhat calm look, he stepped in. He was going to break the kid even if he just accepted the punches; he was gonna make him beg him to stop hitting him.

"Let me give it a try!" he told Rivers and then sent a series of punches straight to Scott's face, so fast and so hard he didn't have a chance to grab on to something before hitting the floor hard, blood running down his nose and from the corner of his mouth. That's when the kicks started to come, one after the other, unrelenting and aimed at every surface of his body: his stomach, his chest, his legs, his back, his face again.

But no matter what came at him, Scott took it all without complaining, which only served to aggravate his attacker even more.

All the while, Rivers kept checking the phone. The call had lasted less than a minute so it was improbable someone had answered it; even so, he would check the dialed number once they had dealt with the punishment required for trespassing the rules and trying to escape. Rivers took a look at the scene happening in front of him and thought that something didn't fit quite right. The boy was getting the absolute crap beaten out of him but the only one getting worked up was Brig; the older man was getting tired and sweat covered all of his face. The punches were getting weaker until they soon stopped. Still, the boy remained calm; breathing a little heavy, yes, but undisturbed. He had worked with Brig long enough to know that he had wanted to get some begging out of the boy, but his desire had been denied. And suddenly Rivers knew that no matter how hard they beat the boy, it would never be punishment enough because he would heal; whatever they did to him, it would heal.

When they had woken up outside the office door, they had to tell Dr. Evans what had happened and ask for a key to enter and capture the werewolf again, and the doctor had instructed them that if they wanted to keep their jobs, and their lives, they would have to make sure nothing like this would ever be tried again. They were given a green light to punish the young boy however they deemed necessary so he wouldn't even think about trying to escape again. And that's when the idea struck him: they needed to inflict a wound that couldn't heal no matter what werewolf powers the boy had; and he just happened to have the perfect idea in mind.

"Brig" he said in a collected tone but with a look in his eyes and a smile so creepy that anyone could've guessed he had something terrible in mind "let's get Scott back to his room. It's time to teach him a lesson" he sent a knowing look towards the other guard and Brig clearly understood what he meant, because another creepy smile started to form, this time, on the older man's face.

Brig looked at Scott again, who had been watching the exchange between the guards from his position on the floor, and ordered him to get up. Scott did so, feeling satisfied that his body was already healing from the abuse recently taken and walked forward, between Rivers and Brig as he had been instructed. Of course, this time his hands were bound tightly behind his back and the electricity stick rested on the small of his back as a warning.

"Any funny business and you'll be seeing stars for a whole month!" Scott just sighed and followed Rivers out of the office where they ran into a pissed off looking Dr. Evans and a few of the other guards.

"I sincerely hope this is the last time something like this ever happens. We have a schedule to follow and you being indisposed because of your punishment would mean messing up with it. Even so, I will not spare you from whatever the guards have planned for you if it means you'll behave from now on, always. So, Mr. Rivers, do whatever you need to do to make sure the message sticks to Mr. McCall's brain"

"Don't worry Sir, he won't be a problem after this anymore" and they kept walking towards the holding rooms.

Scott tried not to let any sign of fear show up on his face, but he had to admit to himself that Rivers's words and the look on his face scared him. At first, both Rivers and Brig had been furious but after Brig had beaten him up and Rivers had said he knew how to teach him a lesson, the guards attitude had gone from hostile to arrogant and that made something inside his stomach turn. If they were acting like that, it meant they knew that whatever they were going to do next would work, and that could only mean that they had done it before.

They crossed the cafeteria-like space and then entered the next hallway and Scott found himself praying that whatever was about to happen now wouldn't include Stiles. He would take whatever punishment these crazy people decided to bring upon him, knowing that no matter how hard, he would eventually heal. But just the idea of Stiles getting hurt was enough to send a new wave of fear through him.

They eventually reached the door to his room and Rivers opened it with the electronic key card. A beeping sound was heard and Rivers went inside; but when Scott went to follow him in, a strong hand gripped his shoulder and kept him from moving. He saw Stiles getting up from the mattress he had been sitting on and take a few steps back when Rivers wouldn't stop walking towards him.

"Hey! Hey!" Scott exclaimed "whatever you gotta do, you do it to me! I'm the one who has to get punished, remember?" Rivers turned around then and answered with a sadistic smile plastered on his face.

"Oh and you will" then he nodded towards Brig and Scott felt a thick wire wrap around his neck before the man's hot breath appeared right next to his ear.

"And you're gonna learn what real begging sounds like"

Scott only had time to notice Rivers lunging for Stiles before electricity hit him from the wire around his neck and he dropped to his knees right outside the threshold. The level of electricity currently entering his body was enough to paralyze him, making it impossible for him to get up and fight back.

He glanced up inside the room and saw that Rivers had pinned Stiles down to the floor and he noticed Stiles's frantic movements to get free, but he just couldn't shake the bigger man's weight off. When Scott's pain riddled mind finally caught up with what Rivers intended to do, he gathered all of his strength to push forward and wolf out, but that's when the electricity reached the dreaded peak and he felt his senses begin to short circuit.

It was happening again, the shifting back and forth; not being able to fully transform and remaining in an in between state. Before his eyes began to lose control, he took one last look at what he wouldn't be able to stop and his heart broke.

After that, he got lost in the pain and the agony of being nothing... Of existing and being nothing.

 **TWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTW**

 **I know this chapter was super short but I needed it to finally introduce what will happen on the next chapter. I'm sure some of you already have an idea of what's coming and I would like to hear your comments about it so I know which direction to take with the next scene; so before I start writing I will wait to read some reviews and see your thoughts about the issue… that means, that I would really appreciate if you could leave a review, no matter how small so that I can start writing right away and then posting the next chapter! I really hope that can happen today!**

 **So… with nothing left to add, I will go on and wait for a few reviews before starting to write! And thank you so much beforehand!**


	14. Broken

**Thanks to all of you who reviewed and encouraged me to write this part of the story as I had envisioned it. I wanted to give you guys this chapter today so here it is…**

 **WARNING: this chapter contains explicit mature content and so I am changing the rating of this fic from T to M. I know some of you have guessed what's about to happen and you were right. To all of you Stiles's whump lovers out there, this should be interesting to read. Now, I would like to state that I don't support what happens in this chapter under any circumstances and I don't mean to offend anybody by the things described here. If this is a subject that upsets you, I suggest you skip this chapter and just go straight to the author's note at the end of it to get confirmation on what happens. There's no need to read the explicit moment if you're not up to it. That being said, I think the warning's good enough to now let you guys read the chapter if you want. This is going to be difficult on Stiles and it was really hard to write… I even got a terrible headache out of it. I just took an aspirin and I hope it passes soon enough.**

 **Chapter 14:** **Broken**

Stiles had been waiting for over two hours, wondering what could be happening to Scott at that exact moment when he heard the beeping sound of the door being unlocked and one of the people he hated more in his life walked in.

He saw that Scott was standing by the door with Brig directly behind him and he was relieved to notice that his friend didn't look too injured. He had some blood on his lips from a cut already healed and also another trail of blood from his nose, but other than that, he didn't look too worse for wear. That is, if you didn't count the overall ill look he carried, but he supposed they had their one week imprisonment and torture to blame for that.

Stiles took a few steps back when he saw that Rivers was getting closer and closer to him, a look of pure madness on his face that made him shiver; and then glanced to the door when he heard Scott's voice calling for Rivers to stop.

"Hey! Hey! Whatever you gotta do, you do it to me! I'm the one who has to get punished, remember?" so Scott had managed to break free from their captors and carry on Plan C. Well, at least Stiles hoped he was able to do it all the way through and contact the outside world. But there was also the possibility of him getting caught before that could happen; he knew that just trying would be enough to warrant a punishment and, by the looks of it, the recipient of said punishment wouldn't be Scott, but him.

"Oh and you will" was River's reply before sending a nod towards Brig.

Stiles hadn't even said a word since the room had gotten invaded by the guards because he didn't know exactly what had happened during Scott's mission and he didn't want to add to these men's anger by letting out his usual snarky comments. He figured they were already in enough trouble, a guess that was confirmed when he saw a familiar thick black wire wrap around his friend's neck.

Now Stiles was confused. Was Scott going to get punished after all? Stiles had already figured out that Rivers was going to beat him up again as a punishment meant for Scott, but then why was Brig holding the electricity wire on him? To keep him in line while Rivers attacked him?  
Stiles wasn't sure how his mind had time to think about all those details in the minimal amount of time it took for Brig to turn on the electricity and for Rivers to lung at him, but he was able to process both moments perfectly well.

He saw Scott go down on one knee letting a grunt of pain out when the electricity hit him and then felt Rivers's weight crash into him, sending them both to the ground. His back hit the floor and the air was driven from his lungs due to the impact. The impact was painful and the crushing weight on his ribs left him even breathless; he wasn't still totally recovered from the last beating Rivers had given him, even if Scott had taken almost all of the pain away, and he wasn't sure he was ready to receive another one. He brought his arms up to block any punch that Rivers might throw at his face, but the man wasn't planning on hitting him. Instead, he took advantage of his risen arms and took a firm hold of them to twist them and make him turn over so his stomach was now resting on the floor. Rivers had lifted himself up just enough to let Stiles change positions, but them let his weight drop again on top of him.

Stiles recognized this scenario from the first day they had arrived and tried to escape and he couldn't help but shiver. It was all too similar: Scott being electrocuted to the point of messing with his shifting (and Stiles knew that's what was happening because his eyes had started to go back and forth between red and brown) and Rivers pinning him down to the floor to drop a bunch of threats against them. Only this time, it wasn't just threats. It was promises... Promises of what would come next.

"So you think you two are smart, ah?" Rivers said while twisting his arm behind his back and pinning his legs down with his own in a perfectly executed military hold "you think you can get out of this place by making a call?" his face was only inches away from Stiles's ear and his tone of voice dropped to a dangerously low level "I told you that first day: you belong to this place and there is nothing you can do to change that. You didn't want to listen to me then, well maybe you're gonna listen to me after this because not only do you belong to this place..." then his voice transformed into a whisper "you belong to me now" and he brought his free hand down to hug Stiles around his stomach, the back of his hand against the floor and the palm flat against his body. Finally, Stiles found his voice.

"What are you doing?" he asked, trying to sound composed but failing miserably at it when he felt the other man's hand reaching the hem of his shirt and lifting it as much as he could to let his hand roam free against the skin of his stomach "What... What are you doing man? Get off me!"

"I'm teaching you both a lesson!" his hand kept going down until it reached the waistband of his pants and Stiles started to struggle harder against the weight that just wouldn't get off him. The man's fingers went inside his pants, reaching lower and lower with every passing second and Stiles lost it.

"Get off me!" he yelled, putting his only free arm under him to try and get up and also scraping his knees against the floor by trying to do the same, but Rivers's hold was strong and he knew how to balance his weight so that Stiles was never able to throw him off. All the while, the foreign hand kept going inside his pants and started stroking the skin on the side of his right thigh and then his butt cheek. The man squeezed hard and Stiles let out another yell "Don't touch me!" Stiles then understood that the guy was trying to lower his pants and underwear when he felt cold air hit his skin and he also felt the material of Rivers's clothes when he pressed down on him and rubbed his pelvis against Stiles's ass while he finished dropping Stiles's pants all the wat down to his knees.

Stiles couldn't believe this was happening! He wasn't stupid; he knew that their plan would have consequences but it had never crossed his mind that the consequences would go this far. He then remembered again the time when Rivers had him pinned to the floor and pressing down on him in a suggestive manner and he realized that he should have seen something like this coming. He should have known that these people were crazy enough to do whatever the hell they wanted.

Tears started pulling in his eyes when Rivers's hand found its way to his stomach again and began the descent to his now exposed private parts. The closer he got, the redder Stiles's face got, not just because of the shame of being touched by another man against his will, but because he really didn't want to cry in front of him; he didn't want to give this man the satisfaction of seeing him break because of what he was doing to him, and so he swallowed his tears and made his very best effort not to let them fall when he finally felt the hand reach his cock and wrap around it. Stiles kept struggling, he never stopped struggling and with his free arm he started pulling on the other man's hand to get it away from him.

"Stop it!" he said, his voice thick and panicked "Stop touching me!" he managed to yank the invading hand away for a moment, only to get the arm behind his back twisted even more and a pained moan escaped him. Stiles turned his head towards Scott, who was now completely on the floor on a fetal position, barely able to breathe and he considered calling out to him, asking for help. But he would never do that to his friend. He knew Scott couldn't do anything for him while being tortured like he was and calling for him would only serve to hurt him more. Stiles knew that Scott would do anything to prevent what was happening to him if he could, and that's when he decided to endure what was going on in silence. He wasn't sure if Scott could even hear him given the state he was in, but just in case, Stiles decided he wouldn't let out any sound that would eventually hurt his friend by making him feel even more powerless. He knew now that this punishment was indeed made for Scott; he was just going to be the unlucky winner of the physical abuse.

Stiles would've liked to think that his resolve was strong, that he could take on this man groping him and say nothing about it, feel nothing. But that was before Rivers started unzipping his own pants. Stiles eyes widened and he turned his head around as much as he could to confirm that what Rivers was doing was true. He was fumbling to get his own pants down and then Stiles saw the man's erection trough his boxers and his resolve broke.

"No..." he said in a tight voice that then grew stronger when he saw Rivers now lowering his underwear "no, NO, NO!" he couldn't take this! He could handle being groped, he could even handle it in silence for his friend's sake, but he could not handle being penetrated. Being raped "No! Not this! Don't do this!"

"Now the begging starts" Rivers said, aiming his words to Brig. Rivers let go of the arm he was holding at his back to be able to position himself where he wanted to go, but Stiles took the moment of relative freedom to fight back and pushed himself up with his hands. He managed to throw Rivers off balance, but not completely away from him and he felt the man's hands grabbing his ass to reveal his entrance.

"Stop! Please!" but the guy paid him no attention and Stiles felt the tip of the other man's dick start its way in. He was breathing faster and now he just couldn't keep holding the tears in, so one by one they started falling "NO!" he screamed when the tip finally entered and he buckled his hips forward to stay as far away from the man as possible. The movement separated them and Stiles felt the invading cock leave him. He kicked out with all of his strength at the man's legs that were entangled with his own and between the mess of their clothes and the lack of equilibrium due to all the movement, Stiles finally managed to break free from Rivers.

He started crawling away on his hands and knees, trying every few inches to get his feet under him and stand up but before he could get farther away, Rivers grabbed him by the ankles and yanked back, making him fall and hit his chest against the floor. He kicked out again but Rivers was faster and after sliding his pants now completely off of him, he dropped his weight on top of him again, not giving Stiles a chance to finish changing position and so remaining with his stomach on the floor and his back to him. A hand fisted on his hair and pulled back before slamming his head against the floor and making him dizzy enough to stop fighting for a second.

And a second was all it took for Stiles's world to come crashing down.

"Argh!" he screamed because there was just no way to hold it back. Rivers had taken advantage of his moment of dizziness to find his entrance again and had rammed his cock inside in one strong and powerful thrust.

He felt like he was being torn apart and it burned so damn much he would have thought someone had lit up a fire in his ass. When Rivers pulled back he grunted and when he thrust back in, he plain out moaned from the pain. Right now he didn't care that he couldn't hold the sounds back, he didn't care that Rivers could see him in so much pain and he didn't care that the tears had started falling again. Right now he could only care about one thing "please... Please stop. It hurts!" he begged in a low voice but Rivers thrusted into him a few more times before answering.

"In a couple of minutes you won't be begging me to stop" he said while breathing heavily from the exercise he was doing "you'll want more"

Stiles scrunched his eyes shut and tried to block everything out but it was impossible. He could feel everything: the man's irregular breath near the side of his face, his left hand holding tightly into his shoulder while his right hand went around his stomach to get a firm hold of him while he kept pounding relentlessly against him. Rivers started to make disgusting sounds that could only indicate he was getting pleasure out of this and Stiles fisted his hands on either side of his face while keeping his eyes closed and holding back a sob "you're incredibly tight!" Rivers said, as if that was something to be proud of "you let me know when you start to like it" he added and that made Stiles open his eyes with an angry frown.

"I am NEVER going to like this you sick SON OF A... _Shit!_ " he let out a curse when he felt Rivers's right hand wrap around his cock again and when he noticed that the thing was half hard, he wanted to die right then.

"You sure about that?" Rivers asked.

What the hell was happening? When had he started to get hard? How had that happened? He wasn't aroused by this situation! He couldn't be aroused by what was happening! He was in pain for crying out loud! How had his cock decided to get excited about that? He buckled his hips when he felt Rivers starting to run his hand up and down his shaft, trying to get him to stop because what he was beginning to feel was unforgiveable.

"Stop it!" he resorted for begging again "don't do that! Stop touching me!" but the man never stopped, just as he never stopped thrusting into him. The motion was still incredibly painful but with every time the man's hand came up and down his cock, the pain would become a little bit more bearable and his breath would become more ragged. He knew he didn't like what was happening and he certainly didn't want it, but his body was starting to react in a very betraying way that he didn't seem able to stop. He started fighting again, bringing his hands down to get the other man's away but at his resistance, Rivers just quickened and hardened his pace.

Stiles let out a grunt that even he wasn't sure if it was from pain or something else but the mere shame of it made a fresh wave of tears leak out from his eyes.

Rivers noticed the change in the boy and smiled. This happened all the time, they always ended up enjoying it and he had always managed to drive them so over the edge that they would eventually beg him not to stop and to make them cum because the idea of not getting released was as painful as being raped in the first place, whether it was a boy or a girl, it didn't matter; it always happened and this was not going to be the exception. He felt the boy shiver underneath him and he knew the change was still happening.

"Tell me what you want" he said to him but the boy didn't answer. He kept thrusting hard, pleasantly noticing that it was easier to slide in and out of him, and also picked up the pace of his hand, being rewarded by a buckle of the boy's hips which were starting to very slowly move back and forth. But the kid remained silent "look, this can either end up really good for you or I can make it worse if that's what you want. You just have to tell me what you really want"

Stiles bit his lower lip to the point of drawing blood while trying to maintain some sort of control over himself. There was a tickling sensation growing on his lower belly and that was slowly but surely making its way to his already fully hard cock and he hadn't been able to stop his own body from moving in sync with the hand making that sensation happen. He had scrunched up his eyes again and was now pressing his forehead against the floor, trying as hard as he could not to let out any other sound that he was now sure would only transmit what Rivers wanted to get out of him. He knew Rivers wanted him to ask to be released, he wanted him to beg to be finished off and his body was also asking him to let it happen, but his mind was stubborn and he would never drop to that level. He knew he didn't want this. He would do anything to make it stop. And it better stop soon because if things kept going down this path, his body would eventually go off on its own no matter what his brain said.

"Tell me what you want" Rivers ordered again and Stiles hardened his resolve. It was now or never.

"I... I want…" it was hard to talk with his heart rate and his breathing all over the place "I want you to stop"

Suddenly all movement ceased and at the lack of friction, Stiles's body twitched trying to get the building sensation back inside of him, but his brain wouldn't let him and so after that, he, too, remained perfectly still waiting to see what would happen next and breathing hard against the floor.

Rivers couldn't believe that the boy had asked him to stop. He had been certain he had been reaching his climax and that he would beg to be released but apparently this kid was tough to get. Then he remembered that this was supposed to be a punishment and that if the boy didn't want his to keep going, that he meant he had to do the exact opposite. ' _A wound that wouldn't heal_ ' he thought again and those were the types of wound that affected the mind, not the body.

"Worse it is then" and he started to move again.

When Stiles felt the motion at his back begin again, the pain was awoken and he opened his eyes wide. Alright, so the guy would still continue to rape him. That was fine, he thought, well not _fine_ ; but as long as he didn't touch him _there_ again… he just didn't think he could ever live knowing he'd had an orgasm while being raped. But when he felt the hand move again, he knew he was doomed. He lost the weak hold he had over the noises trying to escape him and a moan got past his lips at feeling the contact again.

"Please stop" he begged with a voice so tight it was barely audible "I can't... ahh... stop it... I... ahh...please" he whispered between the moans that he was now unable to contain. It was gonna happen, he could feel it and on top of his heart racing even more, he wasn't able to draw proper breaths anymore, which left him panting and sobbing because his body had already disentangled from his mind and he knew that any second now, he would cum.

He started crying harder, feeling shame and guilt invade his heart and his sobs combined with his moans to make a pitiful orchestra that was music to Rivers's ears. He gave the boy a final squeeze and Stiles's vision went black. He felt electricity run down his spine and his cum shot out of his cock while he pounded the floor with his right fist.

"Aaaarhg!" he grunted before taking a big breath and now trying again to get the man's hand away from him. Rivers had kept pounding into him and moving his hand but his cock was so sensitive right now that he couldn't take the contact anymore. He was shaking and the muscles of his ass were clenching painfully around the other man; Rivers was stroking him through the aftermath of his orgasm and the touch was unbearable.

When the boy climaxed, Rivers felt him get even tighter and he knew he was getting close too. A few more thrusts and he would be done as well. He had kept the movement of his hand to prolong the boy's orgasm as long as he could so he would remain tight and so Rivers was able to let go inside of him with one final and deep thrust.

When Stiles felt the man cum inside of him, all fight left his body and he just dropped like a rag doll on the floor. He let his arms fall like dead weight on either side of him and just stared straight ahead, seeing without seeing how Scott still withered on the floor, locked inside his own agony and apparently unaware of what had just happened. He could still feel tears running down his eyes and his breathing was still irregular, but never the less he remained there, like a used and broken toy, which, he figured out, he was.

Rivers eventually got off of him and stood up, put his clothes back on and walked to the door. Brig turned the electricity stick off and withdrew the collar from around Scott's neck. He unclasped the handcuffs and dragged him completely into the room before stepping out.

"I trust you have learned your lesson" Rivers said to the both of them before closing the door and walking away. Both boys remained on the floor, Stiles breathing getting now shallow and Scott's eyes returning to normal.

When Scott was able to see again, he was greeted with the vision of his best friend lying on the floor, with a look that could only mean he had been broken and he suddenly understood that he had been broken too.

 **TWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTW**

 **OMG! Yes… Stiles got raped… This was such a hard scene for me to write and I really hope you guys liked it. I certainly hope you don't hate for what happened to Stiles but I did warn you at the beginning that this story would be dark dark dark…**

 **I can't wait to see your reaction to this chapter and I would love to read your comments about it. Did you like it? Did you hate it? What would you like to see happening next?**

 **I want to thank all of you who in spite of this chapter will continue to read and support this story and I will wait for your reviews so that I can be able to sleep tonight!**


	15. What comes after

**I won't bore you too much right now, so there's a longer author's note at the end of this chapter. All I'll say right now is that I appreciate your support and your reviews of last chapter. They really made my day!**

 **Chapter 15:** **What comes after…**

Scott's body felt heavy and dense as he tried to remember what it was like to be human after spending so much time being nothing.

The first time he had been shocked with those terrible almost magical wires, it had only been for a couple of minutes but, this time, it had felt like forever and, glancing at his best friend still lying on the floor with half of his clothes thrown a few paces away from him, he knew why.

Scott brought his hands around to push himself off the floor and go to him, but he failed at the first try; his body still too weak and unstable. He cursed and tried again, managing to crawl on his hands and knees towards Stiles. He stared at his friend whose chest was pressed against the floor and noticed how shallow his breathing was. He looked at him in the eyes and saw that he had a faraway look; a very glassy and red rimmed faraway look. Tear tracks ran down his cheeks and a small spot of blood was noticeable on his bottom lip where he must have bit it. A fine tremor ran down his body, indicating that he was cold, but Stiles had made no movement to reach for his clothes and cover himself up; and Scott couldn't take it any longer.

"Stiles?" he asked with a hesitant voice. He received no reply or even the recognition of having been heard, so he tried again "Stiles. Come on man, talk to me" and then he made the mistake of reaching for him. Scott had only meant to place a hand on his shoulder, maybe even shake him a little if he continued to be unresponsive; but instead, Stiles's eyes came back to focus and he flinched away. Scott's hand stopped in mid-air and then he drew it back "Stiles?" he asked again, hoping that his friend's now focused stare (even if it was focused on his now retrieved hand) was a sign of him coming back from the shocked state he was in.

At hearing his name, Stiles's eyes looked up and met the worried stare of his best friend, managing to sustain it for a whole two seconds before dropping it to the ground. He put the palm of his right hand on the floor, attempting to move and get into a position that allowed him to breathe better, to relieve his chest from the pressure of his own weight, but when he went to lay on his side, pain shot up from his still exposed behind and he let out an almost undetectable moan. Scott, though, being a werewolf, heard it and he didn't let it pass.

"Stiles, you're in pain" for a moment, he thought he wouldn't get a reply but finally, Stiles's scratchy voice was heard.

" 'm fine" he kind of slurred, now lying completely on his side, facing Scott, with his knees drawn all the way to his chest to cover his nakedness. Another tremor ran through his body and he hugged himself tighter.

"I can smell the blood" Scott let out bluntly. He knew his friend wasn't fine. He may not have been able to see it due to what had been happening to him, but he could hear bits and pieces of what went down between Rivers and Stiles and he also knew that apart from the physical pain his brother must have been feeling, the psychological trauma of what had been done to him would take a hell of a lot more time to mend, if it was even possible to do so. At least the physical pain he could help take away "let me take some of the pain Stiles" he said as a warning before he reached again with his hand, intending on putting it on his shoulder.

"NO!" Stiles's eyes widened in fear and he moved back, pulling away from him "I don't want you to feel this" for the second time, Scott's hand was stopped before reaching its target and he stood there, staring at his friend.

"Stiles-" he started to say but was interrupted by a hard stare and the sound of his own name.

"Scott, this isn't... This is not..." he was having trouble finding the right words to make his friend understand why he didn't want him to touch him "What I feel right now... I don't want you to feel what I'm feeling right now Scott. So please..." the look Stiles was giving him was tugging at the strings of his heart and he wanted with every fiber of his being to be able to take away memories as he was able to take away pain, but he wasn't. He didn't know if Stiles was rejecting his help because he was too ashamed or because he didn't want Scott to have to live even a fraction of what had happened to him. Either way, he needed to respect his decision; even more so after his free will had been so brutally assaulted.

"Okay. I won't" he stated "but you need help Stiles. You need to get up and get dressed. I promise I won't take the pain but you have to let me help" Stiles thought about it for a moment and accepted the fact that he needed help right now. He just didn't think he'd be able to stand up on his own and not collapse like a hip on the floor again.

"Promise?" he asked just to make certain.

"I promise" Scott stated with his most serious tone.

Stiles nodded then and asked him to pass him his clothes. Very slowly and carefully he put on his underwear and his pants, feeling how every movement made his insides burn and then put a hand on the floor to push himself up.

He hadn't seen what he was doing and the moment his hand touched the floor, he lost his balance by attempting to get away from that spot as fast as he could, only managing to fall over it and smear the sticky substance all over his arm. He had been on his knees and Scott had come to him to give him a hand in standing up and when he saw him falter, he had reached for his shoulders to steady him wondering why had he lost his balance so unexpectedly. When he saw Stiles staring at his arm with a disgusted expression on his face, he understood.

He had smelled it, just as he had been able to smell the blood that was already drying inside of Stiles. There had been three different scents permeating the air by the time he had come back to his senses: one was blood, one was Rivers's load also inside of Stiles and the third one had been Stiles's own one. It didn't take a genius to know what had happened and the expression of disgust and shame of Stiles's face was enough to confirm it.

He decided to make no comments about it, sparing his friend the embarrassing moment of having to explain himself because, on Scott's eyes, Stiles was not to blame about anything. He had nothing to explain and much less to him. So he squeezed gently on his friend's shoulder and prompted him to get up.

"Come on" he said softly.

Stiles held out his arm as far away from him as possible while he got his feet under him and as soon as he was able to walk, he all but ran to the sink on the corner of the room and turned on the faucet, putting his arm under the running water and scrubbing it until it felt like he was going to peal the skin off and, even after that, he kept scrubbing. His movements were starting to get frantic and he could feel his stomach turning the more he thought about what he was washing away and why he was doing it. He didn't even turn off the water when he dashed for the toilet to hurl everything that he had on his almost empty stomach. He gagged and heaved, sputtered, spit and threw up over and over again until there was just no more strength left in his body and he wasn't able to hold his own weight any longer. He sank to his knees in front of the toilet and held his head with his left hand.

The moment he saw him falling, Scott ran to him debating whether or not to grab him from behind to prevent him from hurting himself but decided against it at the last minute, letting him crash half on the ground and half on the toilet. He hated this! He hated this so much! There had never, ever, been any awkwardness between them, no hesitation or reluctance to embrace each other. In fact, their friendship and brotherhood had always been rather touchy (and not in a weird way), they were just comfortable with each other and they had known each other for so long that hugging and being there for each other when needed was the most natural reaction between them. Now Scott was reluctant to even get close to Stiles because he didn't want to startle him. He had already flinched away from his touch once and when he had been helping him get up, his body had been stiff and his posture defensive. Scott hated that he was afraid to go to him now because of how he would react and he didn't know what to do about it.

He decided to be helpful some other way and when he noticed the water on the sink still running, he went to it to turn it off. Silence dominated the room then, only broken by Stiles's now occasional heave that would end up with nothing else to throw up.

Scott's eyes landed on the floor where Stiles had placed his hand not so long ago and stared at the stain. He searched for something that would help him clean it up, make it disappear but other than their clothes, there was nothing else he could use and so he went to the sink again, turned on the water and scooped some in his hands, walking back to the liquid on the floor and splashing the water over it. He did it at least two more times and then he grabbed a hold of his mattress and pulled at it, bringing it closer to Stiles's and placing it directly on top of the wet space. At least now Stiles didn't have to see it and they wouldn't step on it by mistake. Scott figured this was the best he could do because getting a cleaning room service was definitely out of the question.

When he turned around after inspecting his work, he found that Stiles was staring at him, no longer hunched over the toilet but merely supporting himself with his arm on the edge of it. He had an expression on his face that Scott wasn't able to recognize and he filed it as Stiles having just so many emotions to deal with right now that not one, but all at once, were showing on his face.

After staring at him, Stiles's eyes dropped to the floor and to the now joined mattresses on the floor. He didn't say anything; just kept staring at them and Scott feared for a moment that he had stepped over the line, a line he wasn't exactly sure where to draw.

"Ammm, I just thought you'd rather not see it" he said, and they both knew what he was referring to "and this is the only thing I could think about. But if you're not cool with the mattresses being close I can just put it back...?" he asked, again hating the fact that he had to be careful with how he talked to his best friend.

"It's okay" Stiles replied surprisingly "thanks" then he looked back at him "would you mind...? Can you help me?" he gestured between himself and the joined mattresses and Scott immediately went to him, glad that Stiles had asked for his help and that it didn't seem like he was shutting himself off. Well, not much.

They reached the other side of the room in a relatively short amount of time; Stiles trying to not let any discomfort or pained sound leave his mouth and Scott trying to ignore the ones that did, until finally they were both lying face-up side by side. They stared at the ceiling in silence, each one lost in their own thoughts until Stiles's tired and sleepy sounding voice broke the silence.

"Did you do it?" he asked "Did it work?" knowing what he meant, Scott didn't delay his answer.

"I found a phone and called my mom. She didn't answer though" before he could continue, Stiles's horrified face turned to him.

"What?" he said with a bit of a break in his voice "What are we going to do now?" still that break in his voice, Scott noticed.

"I left a message" Scott said immediately to try and reassure him, although he didn't know if the knowledge reassured even him "all we can do now is wait and hope it works"

"Hope for a voicemail from an underground fortress to reach a phone hardly ever used between shifts and wait for the cavalry to arrive?" Stiles surmised.

"Well, I _did_ say it was urgent" Scott joked, hoping with every fiber of his being to lighten the atmosphere inside the room.

Stiles stared at him like he had suddenly grown a second head before releasing a laugh that was neither humorous nor sarcastic. It was just a laugh that allowed him to release some of the emotions threatening to bury him alive. Scott joined for a second with a smile of his own and soon the laughing became harder.

It wasn't long, though, before the laugh transformed into a sob, followed by another and another until there was no mistake that he was now crying his eyes out. He brought his hands up to cover his face and kept crying into them while turning around on his side and pressing himself against Scott, who put an arm protectively around him and just held him there while he shook and sobbed. Scott's eyes watered and he couldn't avoid the few tears that escaped as well.

He didn't know how he was going to fix this, how he would help his friend heal; but he would. If holding him while he cried was all he could do for now, then he would remain there forever if it was the amount of time Stiles needed to feel better.

He closed his eyes and willed his message to be delivered and received. To be enough to warrant some help coming their way; and somewhere on a kitchen counter, next to a pot of already cold coffee, a cellphone beeped and a hand reached for it.

 **TWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTW**

 **I realize that some of you don't want me to show Stiles too out of character and, trust me, I don't want to do that either, but I think after what happened to him, he's allowed at least a moment of OCness while he figures how to deal with the situation. I personally enjoyed how Scott was there for him to hold him in the end of the chapter and of course this experience will only serve to bring them closer as brothers.**

 **From now on, I think I'll want to explore a bit of a dark side in Stiles that may or may not have anything to do with the nogitsune but that will definitely be a consequence of the events of last chapter. Also, the pack will make an appearance again soon enough, maybe even next chapter, so you should expect some of that too.**

 **For the person who suggested bringing another werewolf into the mix like Isaac or Derek, I wouldn't really know how to do it, but I'll give it some thought and if an idea pops up, I'll use it. But be assured that I'm taking into account every request.**

 **Now, as you may have noticed, I forgot to change the rating of this Fic from T to M based on the previous chapter. Do you think I should still do it or is it save enough to leave it like it is? I would appreciate some insight into that.**

 **About making a series out of this Fic, I am DEFINITELY thinking about it! There are a lot of ideas running around in my mind about future adventures that could have references to the things happening in this story, so there is a great possibility that it will happen. I would like count on your support as readers for that project!**

 **I think that's all I have to say for now and remember to leave a review or a request when you're finished reading this. I really want to know what you guys thought of this chapter.**


End file.
